Just Friends
by Sekana Katayama
Summary: Sequel to Why Can't We Be Friends. The continued story of a very effeminate male nightelf.
1. Chapter 1

Yo! It's me again, with the continuation of _Why Can't We Be Friends_. Meaning, read that one first, then this. Not that I thought you all didn't know that…

Anyhow, enjoy!

**Random Notes: **Yesh, I have the whole thing planned out in my head. The difficult part is actually doing the writing. Pfft.

**More Notes: **I don't know if I've said this before, but I thought maybe the in-story descriptions didn't work as well as I'd hoped. Yes, Felfe is a night-elf. But he's a very scrawny (scrawny meaning effeminate and slender) male without those crazy steroid-laden muscles like the usual night-elves (not saying that's bad or anything). He also has a very girlish way of acting (if you don't know that then you haven't been reading all this well enough) which adds to his overall 'uke-ness.' And he's short. Kain, on the other hand, looks exactly like your typical black-haired (low ponytail that falls over his shoulder) blood-elf, and acts like one. Abnormal and normal… hmm… I never thought about it like that…

Anyhow, if you're having difficult picturing, just remember that.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Warcraft… here's just a few things that would be changed… hehe. You'd be able to change your character's 'physique'… There'd be nicer faces for guys… And rogues would be even more overpowered than they already are. Yesh.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

****

Felfe shifted on the inn bed, unwilling to open his eyes. It couldn't be morning already, could it? It felt like barely a moment had passed since he practically collapsed onto the bed, weary but relieved.

"Felfe."

Felfe jerked up, rising into a sitting position to see that he wasn't the only person in the room. Another elf was lying there on the bed, wearing a sort of silky robe you'd expect to see in a spa. The elf had long, lustrous black hair, raven-colored like pure darkness. And yet, it didn't give him an evil countenance at all. His complexion, pale but not to the extent of bloodless, was perfect. Those jade green eyes, fully awake, connected with his after a moment.

Felfe didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything _to _say. And yet, he felt like he had to say something, but his throat felt constricted. No words came out.

And then the blood-elf – Felfe refused to put a name to him just now, else he'd die of chronic blushing – sat up gracefully, and caressed the side of Felfe's face with a gentle hand. He could feel the action so intensely that it bordered on unrealistic.

"Kain." There, he'd said it. He hadn't even meant it.

The hand remained on his cheek, unmoving, while its owner smiled softly. That smile made him feel weak in spite of himself – he didn't even know why. He tried not to tremble, but it seemed the other elf had noticed anyway.

"Are you all right?" That concerned tone melted him, and he found himself smiling timidly back.

Kain seemed to be remembering something, or several somethings, starting to laugh quietly. "You look so fragile… I'm always wondering how you managed to survive without me."

Felfe sighed, trying not to get too comfortable. Not that that would be a bad thing, he supposed. It just wasn't… how did he… this was all so sudden…

He hadn't realized he was trembling until Kain pulled him into a slow hug, a hand rubbing his back comfortingly. Well, as much of his back as could be reached, what with the night-elf's long, silvery-white reaching nearly to his waist. Felfe hesitantly put his arms around Kain, wondering what he was going to do now.

Well, making assumptions was always a mistake, even if said assumptions seemed quite plausible in the moment. He'd have to ask, even if it would probably kill him. Not to mention the answer…

Felfe pulled away from Kain slightly, trying to meet the other's eyes and failing. "Did we… do it?"

What else could Kain's turning up in his bed in the morning mean?

Kain opened his mouth to answer, those lips forming the beginning of what would surely be a one-word answer.

And then the world was plunged into a severe darkness.

* * *

Felfe rubbed his forehead lightly, sitting up on the inn bed. All that was running through his mind at the moment was one question. _'Was he about to say 'yes' or 'no?''_

And wasn't that just the question to defeat all questions?

The night-elf growled, rising and brushing through his hair, all the while bickering back and forth with his mind, which had finally decided to show itself again.

'_I take it you're rethinking that whole 'just friends' thing?'_

'_Why would I be doing that?'_

'_You just had a suggestive dream about him. That pretty much sums it up.'_

'_It does not! And I didn't really find out if it was like that…'_

'_You know he was going to say yes.'_

'_Of course not!'_

'_How do you know?'_

'_I don't. I mean, I just do!'_

'_Yeah, right. And anyway, what was the deal with that whole 'let's be cutesy friends and have tea parties' idea? Anyone with a brain can see you like him in a completely non-platonic way. With the possible exception of Kain, of course.'_

'_Don't say his name like that!'_

'_Like what? Kain.'_

'_It sounds so wrong when you say it!'_

'_KA-A-AIN.'_

'_Gah! Don't you dare-'_

'_Oooh, Kaaain!'_

'_Shut up!'_

'_Heh heh.'_

"Felfe?"

Felfe turned around so fast that he narrowly missed flinging the hairbrush at the mirror. Narrowly avoiding seven years of bad luck, which, added to Felfe's current luck rating, would definitely prove fatal. But unfortunately, that wasn't what he was worrying about at the moment.

Kain was leaning against the wall, looking perfectly at home, like he'd been there the whole time.

'_The… whole time? No, that's not… that's not possible!'_

"K-K-Kain!" Felfe stuttered, dropping his hairbrush into the wastebasket without a second thought. Kain eyed the action with obvious humor, but was kind enough not to ask. "What are you d-doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Kain asked, incredulous.

Felfe was trying hard not to faint, thinking that maybe his dream had been real. Really real. Which would mean a whole lot of things he didn't want to happen would have already happened. Wait, that was confusing!

"Did you… er…" Felfe stumbled, and tried again. "D-did… we…"

Kain didn't seem to understand the incomprehensible sentences, and decided to give Felfe a gentle reminder. "You told me to meet you here in the morning. You don't remember?"

"Huh?" Felfe deadpanned. "Oh… oh yeah."

And suddenly he remembered the night before, when Kain had politely dropped him off at the inn entrance.

"_Well then, I'll see you soon." Kain smirked characteristically, turning around._

"_Wait!" Felfe tugged at the other elf's arm. Kain glanced back at him inquiringly._

"_Yes?"_

"_Maybe we should meet somewhere tomorrow… I dunno, I just feel bad that the only time I see you is when you save me from stuff." Felfe flushed, for once only from humiliation._

"_I'm a little busy tomorrow, but I have time in the morning. Is it all right if I meet you at the inn?"_

"_S-sure! Sounds good." Felfe beamed, proud of his almost-without-stuttering sentences. He really was getting better, now that the whole awkward not-quite-friends-but-not-quite-anything-else thing had been called off. "I'll see you tomorrow!"_

_He gave a little wave, and Kain smiled and then walked off into the distance, past the large pile of Southshore guards._

Felfe blushed from a combined reaction of embarrassment – forgetting his own words from just yesterday – and something else – last night's dream that he had mistakenly interpreted as real. It was a pretty dark blush, being fueled by more than one source.

"Are you all right?" Kain asked, leaving the wall to stand in front of Felfe. Not as close as he usually stood, though, which was a relief.

But those words… they were the same! Everything was the same! It was like some sort of twisted reality, where – no, it was better to just stop these stupid runaway thoughts before they did any real damage.

"I'm fine." Felfe replied almost automatically.

Silence took hold for a few deadly seconds before Kain spoke up. "So… what are we doing?"

"Huh?" Felfe blinked.

Kain only sighed, and decided to take matters into his own hands. "Well, let's go."

He opened the door, gesturing to Felfe in what was supposed to be an obvious manner. Felfe stared at him blankly. Finally, Kain walked over, took a _friendly _hold on his companion's arm, and jumped out the window.

"What are you doing!?" Felfe shrieked as the air whistled by them on their rapid descent to the ground.

Kain, being the taller, landed gracefully without Felfe's feet even touching the ground – he had the other elf pulled quite close to him, their eyes at the same level, so that Felfe was dangling off the ground a good few inches.

Knowing that it wouldn't be long before Felfe started protesting at this, he swiftly set the smaller elf on his feet. "Now, wasn't that fun?"

"No." Felfe muttered. "Not if you've fallen off a cliff before."

"Oh, my apologies. I had forgotten about that." Kain said sheepishly. But he didn't look sheepish, because blood-elves weren't capable of that. They only had three settings – flirt, kill, and angst. It was already taking a great deal of strength for Kain to act simply neutral, and trying for 'sheepish' would probably result in his collapse.

Felfe wasn't convinced, but his own natural cheeriness took over and he quickly went back to his usual self. "So, what are we doing?"

"I thought you had planned it…" Kain sighed.

* * *

And it was by complete accident that they met Guanji that morning, on their way out of Southshore. The troll just happened to be training nearby, roasting the bears and mountain lions with his pyroblasts and appearing to be having a very good time.

Felfe immediately recognized him by the red mohawk, and after that he didn't hesitate to call out. "Guanji!"

Kain watched the approaching troll mage with interest tinged with something that might have been protectiveness.

When Guanji reached them, he gave Felfe a hardy slap on the shoulder, and then turned to grin cheekily at Kain. He seemed to be trying not to laugh. "Hey, mon. Da name's Guanji. An' of course you be Kain."

Kain nodded politely, but that was as far as the introduction went. Because, at that moment, a rather familiar figure rode up on his armored white stallion. It was a white horse because paladins always chose white over other hues, being that it was supposedly a pure color. Which probably explained why Felfe's hair was white instead of, say, purple.

"I didn't anticipate having the pleasure of meeting you here." Kain said in a cold tone, his smile not coordinating right with his eyes, which narrowed dangerously. One person invading on his time with Felfe was enough, and he certainly didn't appreciate his rival, of all people, showing up.

"Nor did I." Lancelot retorted stiffly. He dismounted, and Guanji rushed up to him, showing him some item that looked suspiciously like a ring.

"What's that?" Felfe asked before he could stop himself. He always had been curious. It was one of the many things that got him into trouble.

"This," Guanji gestured at the rather tastefully made jewelry. "Be a Coral Band. Of da Boar." He seemed proud of the small thing, beaming down at it like one would at a newborn baby.

But then again, Felfe was pretty impressed, too. It wasn't everyday you found an uncommon item, after all. He'd only gotten around seven or so in his lifetime, so he figured they were very special.

While Felfe oohed and ahhed over the pretty item, Kain watched with a growing fascination. He saw Guanji nod, whisper something to Felfe, and then present the adorable night-elf with the ring. Felfe slipped it onto one of his fingers, examining the blue gem under the morning light, and giggling.

Kain was feeling very jealous. He had to get Felfe a ring, _now_, or his pride might make him do something stupid. Of course, Kain didn't stop to think about the fact that running off to get Felfe a ring was also pretty stupid. This was a _quest_. To raise his Felfe faction reputation.

Felfe turned around to show Kain the ring, and Kain wasn't standing there anymore. He frowned, wondering where the other elf had run off to, but figured he would be back. After all, it wasn't like Kain to just abandon him like that.

So he went back to chatting with Guanji and Lancelot. After all, they were his friends, too. Although he didn't know Lancelot well, Guanji did, and anyone who was a friend of Guanji had to be a good person. It was the transitive property. Or was that associative?

* * *

Kain, meanwhile, was racking his brain for drop rates of rings, and which monsters in Hillsbrad had the highest percent chance of giving him what he was searching for. Hmmm. This might take a while, unless he was particularly lucky. But it could work. Just maybe, if he was lucky…

He walked into the huge clearing full of elder gray bears, and smirked. They didn't stand a chance. He leapt into battle before they could react, killing in single slashes with Thunderfury. Yes, Thunderfury. It was his favorite sword, after all, and he enjoyed using it in his off-time.

He was a healer in his raid group in addition to being raid leader, but he didn't like people knowing about that. He was supposed to be intimidating, fear-inspiring, bold. All that great stuff. So, of course, he wanted the general populace to picture him as a tank, or perhaps… just a damage-dealing machine. Either was good.

But in any case, the bears could hardly stand up to Thunderfury, and they fell in showers of blood, coughing up all manner of things from money to lesser moonstones to (interestingly often) their own tongues and gall bladders. This, Kain had always thought, was quite a feat. But even more interesting was when they yielded odd things like recipes and equipment.

Of course, the equipment was why he was here. He only had a few minutes before Felfe would be suspicious of him leaving, and probably be put off. Which would be very bad. He hoped that this batch gave him something good.

A glint on the detached tongue of one of the downed bears stopped him for a moment. Were bears even capable of getting tongue rings? He bent down and took hold of the ring and it came off freely, not attached to the tongue.

"Perfect." Kain muttered, satisfied, and stuffed it into one of his bags. Time to go.

* * *

Felfe tapped his foot impatiently, only half-listening to Guanji tell a story involving a bear walking into a bar with a mountain lion. Personally, he never got those jokes anyway, so he figured it wasn't that much of a loss. Besides, Kain was starting to worry him. It wasn't like the blood-elf to just leave without a word. He should have been back by now.

Of course, Felfe wasn't actually worried. I mean, nothing dangerous could possibly happen to Kain, unless he walked off a cliff, and that was something only Felfe was capable of doing. But then maybe a bunch of alliance members had banded together and ambushed him… it was plausible, and a lot of people would love to get Kain, practically the leader of the Horde, in trouble. Big trouble. And when Felfe thought trouble he meant injury, death, and all that bad stuff.

But surely Kain wouldn't go down that easily, right? He'd fight them all at once, heroically, and struggle to stay alive. He'd take many down with him, and only once he'd exhausted all his mana would he falter. And then…

Felfe belatedly realized that he had tears in his eyes, and he was shaking rather uncontrollably. Strange. He didn't usually burst into tears in front of people. Wait, people?

Guanji and Lancelot were staring at him. Guanji, with an expression of sympathy, seemed about to come forward and ask him what was wrong. Lancelot, on the other hand, had never seen a male night-elf so emotional, and was quite dumbstruck.

But before either of them could say anything, a figure appeared in the distance, walking towards the three of them. And Felfe recognized the hair, the ears – heck, he could tell it was Kain just by the outline!

Before he could ask himself just what he was doing, he practically thrown himself at his friend, and started hugging him tightly, burying his face in the cold chest armor. He felt Kain's arms wrap around him after a moment, and figured the other elf must have been pretty shocked to have been assaulted by a crying night-elf.

"Felfe, what's wrong?" Kain asked in concern. Felfe wiped his face with his sleeve, and tried to stop crying.

"Y-y-you're okay! I-I'm s-s-so happy…" He choked out, bursting into a fresh bout of tears. Kain offered him an altogether too frilly handkerchief, and he took it. Though the amount of lace on it didn't accommodate its purpose very well, it would have to do.

"Of course I am. Did you think otherwise?" A sentence like this, normally, would sound arrogant and coarse. But coming from Kain, in that sort of tone, it was just what Felfe needed to hear.

"I was… b-being stupid. D-don't mind me." Felfe sniffed, taking deep breaths to try and stop the onslaught of tears. It was working.

Kain smiled, pulling him close again with a sigh that could have meant any number of things. But Felfe thought it sounded like 'I'll always be here for you.' Of course, that could have been just Felfe…

At long last, when Felfe finally finished crying, he stepped back and returned to where Guanji and Lancelot stood, Kain in tow.

Lancelot looked less shocked now, and Guanji had a twinkle in his eye, and looked altogether very happy. No, that wasn't supposed to be suggestive – stop thinking like that! Guanji was happy because Felfe was obviously head-over-heels for Kain, and Kain evidently returned the feelings.

Of course, it didn't help that neither of them realized it. With the possible exception of Kain. But surely Kain would have made a move if he knew Felfe liked him? Ah, yes. He had made a move. That was the sad part.

"Where were you?" Felfe asked when he regained his voice.

"Oh, well… I…" Kain fished an item out of his bag and took Felfe's hand, closing it over the small ring. "I wanted to get something for you. I'm sorry if I made you worry."

Felfe gazed down at the ring – it was beautiful. A golden band with a flawless heart-shaped jewel set in it. A Heart Ring.

Felfe gushed for nearly half of an hour about how wonderful it was, causing Guanji to give Kain a knowing smirk and Lancelot to stare at his rival with a new kind of strange understanding. Felfe, of course, was oblivious to all of these exchanges, grinning at all of them with equal brightness, the new ring slipped onto a finger beside the first.

'_A ring from each friend…' _Felfe thought happily, content to such a degree that he felt like hugging anything in sight, including a couple trees, a chipmunk, and a scraggly mountain lion. Probably the same one that had tried to eat him last time.

And then something occurred to him. "Hey, Lancelot, are you gonna get me a ring, too?"

The other three men halted, casting looks at each other, then at Felfe. Felfe smiled, not knowing the cause of their conflict. Kain fixed his rival with a deadly glare, which Felfe was lucky not to witness. Lancelot nearly flinched.

"Well… you can only wear two rings at once, Felfe." He pointed out cautiously.

"Oh, right!" Felfe nodded, not having known this before.

There was an awkward pause in conversation, in which Kain threw a look at Lancelot that clearly said 'give him anything valuable and I'll beat you up.' And so Lancelot made up his mind.

"So, anyone hungry?" The paladin asked cordially. "Lunch is on me."

Guanji cheered, and Felfe nodded enthusiastically. Kain smirked, and glanced at his longtime rival while trying to make it look like he was simply observing the scenery. Lancelot gave Kain a nod. Kain nodded back.

A truce had been declared, and at the moment everything was right in Felfe's world.

* * *

**_Review, tell me what you think, and all that jazz._**


	2. Chapter 2

**Reviewers: **Hehe, yes, Kain has his work cut out for him.

* * *

**_Quotes:_ **

**Carridwenn - **LANCE GOT SNAP'D! (Dude that was totally hilarious)

**Spriggy - **I have a feeling Kain's going to be doing a lot of grinding to get rep with Felfe... (GAWDS that cracked me up!)

* * *

**Random Notes: **This chapter might actually have some yaoi… maybe. It's inching towards there.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Warcraft… well… it's best not to think about it.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The morning had started off as usual. Felfe didn't get up until about nine o' clock, and even then took his time brushing out his long hair. It wasn't until nearly lunchtime that he actually left the inn building. But at least he had his equipment, now. Though all that leather really was suffocating in the heat…

"Whew…" Felfe sighed, fanning himself with a hand as best he could. It wasn't working. Hillsbrad was experiencing a dreadful bout of heat waves, and most adventurers were taking today off in favor of cold drinks and relaxation.

Not Felfe, though. Felfe had a mission. Well, not really. But he liked to pretend he did. After all, he hadn't really done much training since arriving in Southshore, so he was feeling pretty guilty. After all, how was he going to become one of the elite rogues of Azeroth if he couldn't make it to seventy?

Yes, that's right. Felfe had an impossible dream. But of course, he couldn't comprehend just how impossible it was. To him, it was something that would happen. Eventually. And so he wasn't going to take this day off, because he had work to do.

Work in this case meaning 'killing bears and mountain lions for the good of humanity.' Except for that last part. It was for his own good, not anyone else's. Those bears and lions had gotten him many times in the past, and it was time to pay them back – in full.

But the leather! It chafed so… And it didn't help that it kept all his body heat contained in a way that he was about ready to pass out.

Sorry, was that 'about ready?'

THUD.

* * *

Kain had just been 'passing by' when he found Felfe, lying face-down on the cobbled path. By the direction he was facing it was clear that he was leaving Southshore, not heading towards it. But why would that be? Shouldn't he be relaxing and staying indoors on such a god-awful day as this?

Kain, of course, had a perfectly good reason for being out and about. A very good reason.

_Anyway_, it was apparent that poor Felfe needed help. So Kain, like the polite gentleman that he was – is – decided to 'help.' He crouched down next to Felfe, and lifted him into his arms, carrying him in the fashion known as 'bridal style.' After all, his pauldrons could cause injury if he just threw Felfe over his shoulder. Interestingly enough, though, the elf didn't weigh near as much as Thunderfury, which was strapped to his back…

He paused, wondering where he was going to go. The lake? Sure, why not. They seemed to always end up over there, so why break the wonderful pattern now…

Kain started walking in the right direction – his sense of direction was flawless as always – and hewed a passing mountain lion in half. Pesky beasts, always getting in the way when they were least needed.

The lake came into view soon enough, and Kain set down Felfe right next to the water, contemplating what to do next.

He belatedly realized that his friend was actually wearing equipment today. It was pretty pathetic equipment for his level, but sure enough, it was there. Leather. That must be a pain to wear.

Of course, plate armor was even worse, since there was the layer of clothes underneath it, the padding, and the actual metal, fused in such a way that it let no heat escape and…

Kain frowned, feeling slightly dizzy suddenly. Had he eaten breakfast? Or lunch, for that matter? Apparently not. He was definitely feeling odd, now. Wasn't the lake supposed to be still? Why was the water swirling around and going in and out of focus like that? Come to think of it, why was his _vision _going in and out of focus like that!?

"Damn…" Kain muttered, the word slurred and nearly incomprehensible. His eyes shut, and he passed out, falling back onto the grass, Thunderfury making the position very uncomfortable.

* * *

This had to be a dream – it just had to. Some wonderful, heat-spell-induced dream that his mind had conjured up. After all, Kain knew that what he was seeing was not real. Felfe, leaning over him and saying soothing words. Felfe, squeezing out a soaked piece of cloth and placing it on his forehead. Felfe, shirtless, with water dripping down his body. Felfe, whose pale, silvery hair was tied in a high ponytail, also soaked.

"Hey… are you okay?"

It couldn't be real. He sat up, grass blades sticking to his bare back – wait, what?

He looked himself over, and noticed that he was wearing nothing but his plate metal pants. Nothing else. Not even a shirt. And Felfe was wearing less, it looked like.

No, wait, he wasn't. Technically. Felfe had rolled his leather pants up so that his calves were bare, which made Kain realize that he had never seen that much of his friend before. Ever. And what a drool-worthy sight it was.

All in all, Kain could logically conclude that this _was _a dream. Or hallucination. Or whatever.

Felfe, however, seemed to be waiting for an answer. When none was given, he frowned slightly – a cute expression, on him – and placed a soft hand on Kain's shoulder.

"Kain."

Kain, of course, was enjoying this enough that he wasn't about to answer that, either. But Felfe would probably be upset if he did that, taking his lack of response to mean that something was dreadfully wrong.

"Yes?" Kain mumbled. The hand withdrew, and even though the extra heat had practically burned him in combination with the oven-like temperature of the outside, he missed it immediately.

"Oh, good. I almost thought…" Felfe trailed off, and seemed to forget what he had been saying. Then, he brightened and tugged at Kain's arm. "Come on, you still need to cool off more."

And he pulled Kain into a standing position and gestured happily at the lake. "The water's really nice – it's not warm at all!"

Kain would have appreciated that realization more if he hadn't been busy appreciating the way the ends of Felfe's hair stuck to his back, providing occasional water droplets that ran down the pale skin. He quickly averted his eyes when he realized what he was thinking. But then he questioned himself.

This was a dream, after all, wasn't it? He might as well have fun. And relaxing in a nice, cold lake with Felfe sounded pretty darn fun at the moment. Nice, cooooold lake. Yes.

Felfe towed him to the water's edge, and let go of his arm. Kain watched as his friend gracefully dove into the lake. How could Felfe do that so well, and yet fail in so many other physical areas? Not some, mind you, but definitely in the category of fighting, adventuring, and… well… living.

But Felfe looked quite at home in the water, surfacing with a delighted smile and laughing. "Aren't you coming in?"

Kain nodded, starting to wonder how long a dream this was going to be. After all, he wouldn't mind taking advantage of this… temporary… situation. Not at all. If only the dream-Felfe wouldn't act like the real one. Would he protest the same way? Would he be horribly disappointed in Kain for failing to be 'just friends' like he'd promised?

And Kain realized that, though this was a dream, he wouldn't want to see that look of hurt on Felfe's face. It was worth holding back if it meant he wouldn't be the cause of something like that.

He sighed, thoroughly put out now. There was no way Felfe – even in his dreams – would accept him. Although, the whole 'dreaminess' of the situation had gone down a bit, including the slow retreat of dizziness and his vision returning fully. So had that not been a dream? None of it?

He realized Felfe was still watching him expectantly, and he waded into the pond to where he could sit down comfortably with the water up to his shoulders. And then he wondered if his plate metal pants would rust because of this. Oh, he'd never live this down if anyone found out.

"You feeling better?" Felfe asked with tentative smile, sitting down beside the taller elf. Well, he tried, but for him the water reached nearly to his eyes, causing the position to be unfavorable. So he settled for a spot a bit more towards the shore, but still – sort of – near Kain.

Kain nodded slowly, his mind elsewhere at the moment. There was something nagging at him, some strange feeling in the pit of his stomach…

Felfe seemed to focus his eyes on Kain's upper body for a moment, looking worried. Kain raised an elegant eyebrow at him, wondering what that look was for.

"You look like you haven't eaten in days, Kain." Felfe said quietly. "You should eat more."

Kain paused dramatically. It all made sense, now, everything! He hadn't eaten those couple days that he locked himself in his rooms, and then after that he didn't remember to, even when – dare he mention the name – _Lancelot _took them out for lunch. Which he had politely refused, since there was no way he was going to be indebted to an enemy. Well, mutual enemy-on-hold.

And it certainly made sense that he had passed out not solely from the heat – he was, obviously, too good for that – but also from severe lack of food. And the feeling in his stomach was now identified as hunger.

"I haven't." Kain replied at last, more to himself than Felfe. Felfe gave an audible gasp, and practically _rushed _over. Well, the equivalent to doing that by way of swimming.

"Why not!?" The pale-haired night-elf shrieked. "Kain, I know you're probably worried about your appearance but that's no reason to starve yourself! Trust me, I went through that phase, and it didn't help a bit! I mean, if you don't mind me saying, you look pretty good when you _do _eat, so I really don't get-"

"_Felfe._" Kain said exasperatedly, cutting his friend's tirade short. "I was not starving myself. I simply forgot."

"Forgot what? To eat?" Felfe questioned heatedly. He should have been completely deflated by Kain's last statement, but unfortunately it didn't even faze him. "Look, you don't have to make excuses to me. I understand. But you can't do that to yourself!"

"It wasn't an excuse…" Kain muttered mutinously. Felfe caught this, though, and seemed thoroughly annoyed.

"Look, Kain, you don't have to change yourself for other people to like you. You're hot enough as it is. There! I said it! Now you can just go back to eating big meals like normal people and stop thinking you're not good enough."

Felfe sat there in a huff, his hands on his hips, looking entirely triumphant about his 'success.' Kain couldn't help but smile at this, probably giving Felfe the impression that he was indeed feeling 'supported.'

"I was going to eat anyway. You didn't have to say all that." Kain said blandly, but found he still couldn't take his eyes off Felfe.

Felfe just smiled, convinced that Kain was just saying that to save his pride. "Well, should we get something to eat, then?"

Kain nodded, feeling that hollowness in his stomach growing. "Yes, that would be…"

And then he swayed slightly, his vision starting to blur again. Wait, again? No, he couldn't faint again, not at a time like this! Not at such a time when he needed his pride so!

"Kain!"

SPLASH.

* * *

Felfe panicked, dragging Kain's limp body out of the water. What was he supposed to do!? Last time, it wasn't near as bad. Kain was lying there peacefully, almost asleep. But at the moment he looked a lot like a corpse, and his breathing was uneven and slowing down. Or maybe that was just Felfe…

'_What do I do? What do I-'_

'_Get help, you idiot!'_

'_Oh, right, that sounds good.'_

And then Felfe realized that they were in the middle of nowhere – i.e. Hillsbrad – and he didn't see anyone around. Anywhere. After all, it wasn't a good day to be out.

"Sprinkles…" Felfe cursed, trying to hold his tears back. "T-there has to be someone…"

He burst into tears and cried for a good minute before realizing that Kain needed medical attention _now_, and he was delaying it. Which made him cry a bit more before finally regaining his wits.

"Right. Okay. I can do this." Felfe breathed in ragged breaths, slowing the tears and taking out a frilly handkerchief to wipe his face. His own, this time. He'd actually remembered it today.

But that was neither here nor there. He had to get Kain help. Which meant dragging Kain at least to the road, where he'd be more likely to find people. Unfortunately, Felfe's sense of direction was as bad as always, but he knew the general direction he'd have to travel.

Now, if he could just figure out how to carry Kain…

* * *

A painstaking and arduous five minutes later, Felfe had succeeded in half-carrying, half-dragging Kain to the stony path. It appeared he had veered off course a little, because they were right in front of Hillsbrad Fields (or so it said on the map).

And then Felfe saw the farmers going around harvesting crops and such, and realized that they might be able to help.

"Hey! Hey there! Excuse me!" Felfe yelled, taking Kain with him and traveling the five-foot distance to the edge of the farm.

The farmers turned quickly, first smiling at him and then casting their eyes on Kain. And then they growled, exchanging angry mutters with each other and nodding fiercely.

"H-hey, can't you see he needs help?" Felfe pleaded, watching the farmers take out their pitchforks and shovels.

"We dun like _their _kind here, lass. Move along, or we'll hafta use these." One of the farmers grinned wickedly, hefting his weapon.

Felfe paled. He was about to say something, anything, to change their minds, but was interrupted by a very interesting sight.

Guanji, his red mohawk bobbing, was running back through the fields on the left. He hadn't seen them yet.

"Guanji!" Felfe called out, relieved. His friend would know what to do.

"Felfe?" The troll spotted them, an incredulous look on his face. A nearby farmer ran after him, howling, but Guanji froze him in a block of ice. "Holy – be dat KAIN?"

"Y-yeah, it's a long story, but…"

The farmer, apparently sick of being ignored, threw the pitchfork at Guanji, who dodged it, still listening intently.

"B-but he needs help! Really!" And then Felfe broke down again, clutching Kain's body to him and sinking to his knees. "I d-don't know if he's okay…"

Guanji turned and faced the farmer after the fifth thrown object – a shovel – and calmly pyroblasted him. Nothing remained except a patch of blackness on the ground, which began to fade.

Guanji wasted no time in examining Kain, and then whipped out a shiny communication device with a large green 'G' on it. Felfe, normally, would have been amused at this, and would have thought the 'G' stood for the troll's name. But of course, he was too busy crying over Kain to notice.

So Guanji called his guild – _the guild_ – and asked to speak with Kain's second-in-command, Yuren.

"Hey, mon. Kain be in big trouble."

Felfe sniffled, hugging Kain much like one would hug a stuffed animal.

"Yeah, he here."

Felfe burst into a fresh bout of tears, whispering incomprehensible words.

"Great. We be at Hillsbrad Fields, ya."

Felfe promptly fainted from prolonged concern and fell back onto the path.

"Tanks."

Guanji put away the shiny thing, and dragged Felfe and Kain a little ways off the road so that his guild members wouldn't accidentally run them over. He wasn't a moment too soon, as the familiar looking epic mounts of Kain's (and Guanji's) guildies galloped up.

Yuren, his bones looking exceedingly dirty today, ran skeletal fingers through his greasy hair and dismounted. He cast a look at Kain, shook his head, and motioned to a rather pretty blood-elf woman, who had turned white in shock at the sight of her guild master. When the woman didn't move, Yuren sighed and glanced at the other main healer, a male blood-elf paladin with long, red hair.

Unfortunately, the paladin had fainted, and was now being tended by the back-up healers. All three of them.

"Does no one realize that _I'M IN CHARGE AT THE MOMENT?_" Yuren yelled hoarsely, causing the rest of the guildies to freeze and shudder.

Guanji rolled his eyes.

"Rhaki, Demmna – here! Now!" He commanded, pointing at Kain. The two back-up healers rushed over, Rhaki fingering her long, silky black hair, and Demmna hefting her healing stave and looking guilty.

They both nodded and began reviving their guild master, casting spells at what seemed like random intervals and slowly bringing the color back into Kain's skin. After he was back to being healthy – albeit still out cold – they loaded him onto a carrier that was placed between two undead horses.

Yuren looked at Felfe, who was also out cold, and seemed to realize something. "Is that Felfe?"

Guanji nodded, and then gave Yuren an interesting look – a mix of expectancy, threat, and curiosity. Yuren, amazingly, interpreted the look correctly and sent the pretty blood-elf – who had recovered now that Kain was better – to tend the night-elf. Apparently, all that stuff about opposite factions not being able to heal each other was a load of lies. All lies.

When Felfe was returned to normal – not that he was as bad off as Kain to begin with – Guanji slung him over his shoulder, and held a conversation with Yuren in whispers.

"You can't take him there!" Yuren hissed, shocked.

"Ja, mon, I can." Guanji retorted stubbornly. "Lance took me ta da alliance base. For healin'. So we do same thing, ya?"

Yuren narrowed his eyes, unconvinced.

"Lemme put it dis way – it be bad, bad, bad for Kain ta wake up an' find out Felfe's not dere because joo say he can't." The red mohawk bobbed threateningly, and Yuren gave in with a few last mutters of 'unconventional' and 'never would've stood for it in my time.'

But it appeared they had only brought one such carrier, so someone was going to have to carry Felfe. And it couldn't be Guanji, since he had a hard enough time keeping up with the horses as it was.

"All right, who's going to carry the night-elf?" Yuren asked, already astride his horse and trying not to roll his undead eyes.

The other horde members shared uneasy looks. No one volunteered.

Yuren _did _roll his eyes, then, and dismounted. His undead steed nickered at him, as if asking what in the world was going on. Yuren growled in answer, stalking over to Guanji and attempting to take Felfe from him.

Guanji narrowed his eyes. "Joo be gentle with 'im, or joo be dead in da morning."

Yuren rolled his eyes, being entirely tired of rolling his eyes. "I'm undead. I can't die."

"No. Joo be undead – dat mean's not dead."

"But I'm not alive, so I must be dead." Yuren replied sarcastically.

"… But aren't joo undead? Which means joo are alive?"

"No! I'm… well… I'm undead, got it? I'm not alive, and I'm not dead." Yuren hissed.

"Fine, fine. Be dat way. But joo no hurt Felfe, got dat?"

Yuren nodded exasperatedly, and _gently _took Felfe into his arms, scrambling onto his undead horse. The poor mount looked at him questioningly, giving a neigh of confusion.

The undead warrior leant closer to the horse's ears and whispered comfortingly. "It's okay, Lucy, we're only going back to the base."

And then, with a final pat of Lucy's undead head, he signaled to the rest of the group, and they were off.

* * *

**_So what did ya think? _**


	3. Chapter 3

**Reviewers: **Wow, I'm so glad last chapter was good. I mean, not that I thought it wasn't, hehe.

**Random Notes: **I'm hoping I can make this chapter even better than the last one! Oh yeah, and just for kicks I'll tell you that my main on WoW is a 70 human rogue called Yazu on Hakkar. She's my precioussss.

**Also: **I really didn't realize this chapter was going to be so long. Honestly.

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, etc.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Yuren blinked open his eyes, his infernal clock telling him that it was, indeed, morning. Without further ado he sat up in the small wooden bed, hopped off it, and padded silently into the adjoining restroom. He splashed some water onto the rotting skin of his face, and then took out a toothbrush with a picture of Kael'thas on it and began scrubbing at his undead teeth.

No, the toothbrush wasn't his pick. These were the standard ones issued to all horde recruits as a sort of peace offering from the blood-elves who had joined their ranks recently. Unfortunately, that had been before everyone realized that Kael had turned evil. Now most people threw the things away and bought their own, plain colored toothbrushes. Except for Yuren.

He'd never been one to waste anything. So he kept the stupid thing in favor of buying a new one. After all, it never hurt to save a little money, even if his wallet was filled to bursting with gold.

His brushing done, he took out a small hairbrush from the shelf above the small sink and ran it through his greasy hair a few times. Satisfied, he put the brush back in its place and opened the door to the extremely small bedroom that he called his own.

The room was barely large enough for the plain bed and shelves to fit, but it was large enough for Yuren's liking. There were no windows, though he could have easily gotten the goblins to install some – though some argued that gnomes made better architects. Of course, the blood-elves seemed to be pretty good at the whole fancy-windows-and-parapets thing, but Yuren would never stand for living in houses like that.

He examined it for a moment, his small, dark room. Most people would expect he'd either live in a huge mansion, like Kain – he wasn't second-in-command for nothing – or in a dirty old shack that people thought all undead felt at home in. His was neither. Yes, it was small and rather stuffy because of its lack of ventilation, but it wasn't like he breathed air anyhow. And his room was impeccably clean. No dirt, cobwebs, dust, or any of that ever survived in this place.

He had all he needed here, and it suited him fine. He grinned toothily in a way that would have sent small children running away, and strode over to the shelves above the bed. Today was going to be a good day, no doubt about it.

As he put on his heavy plate armor, he was hit by the sudden realization that Kain was still bed-ridden. He hadn't woke yet, and most of the guild members were very worried. Meaning, most of the horde had decided to make a pilgrimage of sorts to Undercity in an attempt to see Kain as well as take some time off from questing.

And that's when Yuren decided that today was _not_ going to be a good day.

'_Good grief, the place is going to be overrun with noobs!' _He thought darkly, scowling and pushing open his door.

He stalked down the narrow hallway outside his room in the barracks, noticing with disgust that no one had bothered to clean this week. There were dirty footprints all over the floors.

He entered the main center of Undercity, and had to stop himself from cursing. It was pandemonium. Just like he had predicted. Noobs, everywhere, rushing this way and that, calling out things like "Oh my god, like where's the wind rider master!?" and "Hey can someone give me five gold???" Incidentally, most of these were blood-elves.

It was horrific. He quickly stepped into the elevator that would take him up to the Ruins of Lordaeron and away from the mass confusion that was now deemed Undercity. As he stepped onto the platform he noticed some of the noobs fooling around with the elevator controls as if they thought they had to press a button or something. Pfft.

He was about to point this out to them in an extremely ill-tempered way when the elevator started its journey upwards, smooth and fast as always. Yuren sighed. Well, at least it was still working. The way those idiots were fumbling around, it wouldn't be surprising if the poor elevator stopped working.

He made a mental note not to use the elevator until all the noobs had seen Kain and gone their merry ways.

He stepped out onto the dying grass of the ruins, and decided to exit Undercity for a change of pace. Perhaps his day would get a little better.

He walked out of the entrance and down the stony path, watching the nearby zeppelin tower's traffic overflow with a wince. There were so many people traveling to Undercity that the massive group had almost come to a standstill, what with people trying to push through the crowd as others beside them pushed the opposite way.

And then the steady stream of horde trickled out through the tower's exit, and headed to Undercity's entrance. Yuren decided to get off the path to avoid becoming a rather undead pancake.

Normally, he would have noticed him right away – after all, it wasn't every day you saw a level seventy paladin standing a bit off the path to Undercity, doing absolutely nothing but watch the many horde rush in through the entrance. But today wasn't a normal day, so it took Yuren a couple seconds to register the fact that _Lancelot_, the opposing guild master of all of the alliance, was standing beside him.

"_YOU_." Yuren hissed and pointed at the human accusingly, putting as much loathing into one word as was inhumanly possible. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I am here to talk to Kain about the matter of a certain night-elf. It appears that you have… how should I say it… _abducted him _to your city." Lancelot, Yuren noticed, seemed unusually stiff today.

"We took him here to recover. And, may I add, that was not _my _idea." Yuren folded his bony arms, fixing the paladin with a look that clearly said 'just go away.'

"Your idea or not, you have Felfe prisoner at the moment, in a manner of speaking. I am going to talk to Kain about this." Lancelot looked exceedingly stubborn.

Yuren narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think you can just _walk into Undercity_?"

Lancelot frowned. "Section 9.4 of the Code of PvP. It clearly states that-"

"_I think I know what is states, thank you_." Yuren snapped, becoming even more ticked off. This just wasn't his day. And, unfortunately, it didn't look like things would be getting any better.

"You cannot deny my right to speak with your leader, at the very least." Lancelot held his ground confidently.

Yuren, his headache beginning to form quite rapidly, realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere with this. And he didn't want to be stuck here all day. "Fine. But I will be escorting you there, as it says in Section 10.11, line 109."

He could have sworn he saw a flicker of surprise on Lancelot's face at the sudden surrender, but he figured it was just a trick of the light. Not that there was much light in this place…

Lancelot's expression was now one of triumphant, righteous satisfaction. How pathetic. Yuren had always hated paladins, especially the sort of holier-than-thou ones that always said things like 'Do you walk in the light, child?' and seemed to be convinced that Yuren and the rest of his kind were otherworldly abominations that needed to be slaughtered. Yes, that didn't really give him a good impression of the lot of them.

Yuren turned on his heel and started towards the entrance, hearing the paladin's plate boots crunching on the gravel behind him. Neither of them said a word through the short trip into the inner ruins, nor when they reached the elevator, and waited for a few moments for it to arrive.

At last the wretched machine came, and the doors slid open with a hiss. Yuren entered first, and Lancelot slipped through the doorway behind him. The elevator began its smooth descent.

Yuren was tapping his foot impatiently when suddenly the whole compartment lurched dangerously, throwing him and its other passenger to the cold floor. He cursed, trying to get back to his feet, but another tremor shook the elevator, and he fell back onto the stone.

The elevator gave one last shudder, and then stopped. The lights seemed to die, flickering and then shutting off completely.

Yuren shakily stood, brushing off his armor and rubbing his rotting skin where a few bruises were becoming apparent. He cursed yet again, belatedly remembering telling himself not to use the elevator. Those damn noobs!

"Having a bit of trouble maintaining the city, I see." Lancelot remarked dryly, now leaning against the elevator wall and obviously ignoring the dark bruise on his left cheek, which the semi-darkness was doing its best to hide.

Yuren, thoroughly ticked off now, didn't even bother answering. Instead, he attempted to pry open the door, and, when that failed, settled for pounding on it. When that in turn yielded no results, he stood back at last, and gave a horrifying conclusion. "It's broken."

Lancelot snorted. Yuren shot him a death glare that probably would have worked if human eyes could see through darkness as well as his own. As it was, Lancelot only sighed in a very righteous way, and sat down on the floor in a very casual way.

Yuren, though he didn't want to settle sitting down next to an enemy, decided that since the elevator probably wasn't going to be fixed anytime soon, sitting was a necessary action. So he did, and they sat there in silence for a few moments before, apparently, Lancelot became tired with nothing to entertain him.

"Do you _ever _wash your hair?" The paladin asked with an incredulous tone.

"_What?_" Yuren tried to confirm what he had just heard. Did Lancelot just ask him if he _washed his hair_? Did this situation look like some sort of 'bonding' experience to him?

"Do you wash your hair?" Lancelot repeated, this time in a more level tone.

"Why would I do _that_?" Yuren replied, unamused. "Undead hair stays like this no matter what you do to it."

"Is that so?" Lancelot actually sounded curious. Sincerely curious.

It made Yuren want to gag. But then Lancelot had the nerve to ask another question.

"And do you require food to live? And air?" Make that 'two questions.'

"No." Yuren rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall a slight bit. This was going to take forever – they probably hadn't even sent someone to fix the elevator yet.

"To the first question, or the second?" Lancelot, by the sounds of it, was _writing down his answers._

"Both. Otherwise I would have _specified._" Yuren replied in an extremely tired tone. He felt exhausted, even though he had been up and about for only a mere hour.

"I see…" Lancelot seemed to make some more notes, and then looked up again. "What about sleep?"

"It passes the time." Yuren drawled sarcastically. "_Yes, I need sleep._"

Lancelot nodded, satisfied, and wrote some more no-doubt perfect letters onto the scroll. "How about senses – sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch."

"I see fine." His undead eyes rolled yet again. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. "And my ears appear to be intact as well." Heavy dosage of sarcasm, there.

"Hmm." Lancelot affirmed, still writing.

"I don't taste, so I don't eat." Yuren continued. "I don't smell, so I can't complain that you're polluting our lovely city with your human stench." Another bucket of acid.

"Hmm." Lancelot nodded again, apparently immune to immense sarcasm.

"Touch is normal as well."

Lancelot looked up at this with an odd look in his eyes.

Yuren twitched. "What is _that _look for?"

"That's the first sentence you've said that wasn't sarcastic." Lancelot pointed out, looking amused.

"Your point being?" The undead folded his arms, resisting the urge to growl like a feral animal.

Lancelot opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it. He hesitated, and then said casually, "Nothing. Nothing."

Yuren raised an eyebrow, not convinced, but Lancelot didn't seem to care. The warrior sidled a little closer to the other, just a bit curious as to what exactly this list had on it. It appeared to be a list, at least.

He came close enough to read from looking over Lancelot's arm – his shoulder was too high to look over – and noticed the heading of the paper. _A Brief Examination of the Undead Lifestyle_.

Under the heading were various questions, with check marks meaning 'yes,' 'no,' and 'maybe.' There had to be at least twenty questions, and… was that a second page under the first?

Disgusted, but still curious, Yuren read over some of the questions. Most were simple things like hygiene and what is was like to be undead, but some of them were more… personal. And then, Lancelot flipped the page over, revealing a line of long-answer questions that had whole paragraphs left open to write in information.

Yuren's eyebrows rose at the first question, and he awkwardly closed his gaping mouth. Only then he noticed Lancelot's eyes on him, examining his expression with great interest.

"What exactly are you _writing!?_" Yuren exclaimed, slightly embarrassed as well as a little weirded out. I mean, that was a pretty strange question.

"It's a paper regarding the lives of undead as compared to humans. I thought it might make an interesting read for my colleagues." Lancelot answered flatly.

"And why is that you want to know about our _sex lives?_" Yuren questioned with no lack of caustic poison.

"It's an important part of human life." Lancelot was nearly smiling, in a sort of half-amused, half-holier-than-thou way. "I would assume it must have a place in undead life, as well."

Yuren was sure his undead face was about to melt off due to an excess of heat – this subject wasn't exactly something he put a great deal of thought into, nor was it one he indulged in often. Well, more like 'never.' "I suppose you could say that." He muttered.

Lancelot scoffed. "I need a longer answer than that."

"What do you expect me to say!?" Yuren snapped, hoping that his bloodless face wasn't making up for the lack of color it usually displayed.

Lancelot gave a noncommittal shrug, and Yuren huffed and turned away.

And then Yuren realized that he was acting entirely too much like a little human girl, and he decided that he'd have to go for a different approach. Perhaps cold and affronted. No, too dramatic. Maybe he should just play it cool, and pretend this wasn't a big deal.

… When did this stupid situation become a 'big deal?' Okay, time to get back to reality and act like a normal undead warrior with a stick up his –

I mean, like he usually acted. So Yuren did just that. "Well, I haven't done much of that, so I can't say for sure whether it's… the same for humans. Not to mention I have no idea what it's like for humans, either, so I have nothing to compare to. So I can't answer the question."

"You're a virgin?" Lancelot looked up from his writing with an expression of incredulity and awe that looked so out-of-place on his face that Yuren would have laughed if he was capable of such a thing.

"Yes. Your point being…?" Yuren was quite satisfied with himself, since he was indeed 'playing it cool.' And it appeared to be working.

"That's… amazing." Lancelot said, in the same way someone would congratulate you upon finding out that you rescued a child from a burning building.

"Why?" Yuren, unfortunately, ruined his cool image by asking this.

"I am a paladin, as you know." Lancelot began, and Yuren answered him with a 'obviously' expression. "So, of course, we uphold the light."

"Yes…?" Yuren stifled a yawn.

"To get straight to the point, we are generally supposed to be quite chaste – romantic excursions are frowned upon if displayed blatantly, so most of us settle for keeping our romantic lives secret." Lancelot droned on, and Yuren tried to settle more comfortably into the cold, stone wall.

"So?" He interrupted, trying to get Lancelot to the actual point.

"Very few paladins succeed in being completely chaste. Not even I, the very icon of the paladin class." Lancelot concluded seriously. "Therefore, for an undead like you to achieve such a goal… it is admirable."

Yuren blinked, watching as Lancelot continued to look slightly awed as well as approving. "You're… serious."

"Would I have a reason not to be?" Lancelot asked, slightly affronted.

"This is getting to be an entirely exhausting conversation." Yuren sighed, closing his eyes and trying to imagine being back in his small, clean room and going back to sleep.

* * *

Felfe opened his eyes and saw a gilded ceiling, full of painted scenes from ages long past. It was beautiful. And there were countless gold arches all over the domed ceiling, filled with intricate shining framework that looked like shimmering lace. It was so very beautiful.

"Hey, mon. Joo finally woke up."

Felfe blinked, the beauty shattered as the trollish face largely obscured it from view, smiling down at the night-elf. Felfe, though somewhat surprised at the sudden intrusion, took Guanji's hand gratefully and sat up, feeling a slight ache in his back.

"What happened?" He asked blankly, not remembering a thing.

"Joo fainted after draggin' Kain all da way to da Fields. So we brought joo here, ta Undercity, so joo could feel better." Guanji explained. Then he grinned. "And we knew joo would wanna see Kain."

"I dragged Kain to Hillsbrad Fields? Why?" Felfe inquired, his mind hazy. What had he been doing yesterday? He remembered waking up and walking out the inn door, but after that it seemed almost like the memories had been ripped from him.

"Joo dun remember?" Guanji gaped. "Oh, dis be bad."

And the troll rushed from the room, his red mohawk bobbing in a panicked way. Felfe, confused, sat there for a few minutes until Guanji reappeared, followed by a kind-looking blood-elf priest.

The priest bustled over to Felfe's bedside, and place her hands on his shoulders, then cupped his face in her hands. She appeared to be looking into his eyes with great interest.

Felfe, knowing that this must be some kind of priest skill, refused to squirm uncomfortably, which was what his mind was telling him to do. He always knew his mind was wrong half the time, and too right the other half.

"Yes, you're right. Some of his memories are missing. Only yesterday's, though, so it's not too bad. He'll probably remember eventually."

Guanji gave a relieved sigh and gave a thumbs-up to the priest, who smiled and left through a gilded door.

"Where are we? This doesn't look like Undercity…" Felfe hadn't actually been to Undercity, but this place sure didn't look like somewhere undead people would live.

"Oh, ja, dis is Undercity…" Guanji scratched his head. "But dis part be Kain's mansion."

"Oh." Felfe blushed slightly. "But… I wouldn't want to impose. I guess I should get going, since he was nice enough to let me stay here."

"Uhhh… actually, mon, I tink he had nothin' ta do wit it." Guanji explained awkwardly. "Kain… he still be sleeping."

"So?" Felfe, confusion gracing his face, decided to get up from the bed, and brushed his clothes off – they were still the same ones he usually wore, and that made him happy. At least he wasn't borrowing clothes from Kain, too. That would be horribly embarrassing.

"Look, joo prolly wanna know what happened yesterday, ja?" Guanji asked hastily.

"Yeah, of course." Felfe nodded quickly, grabbing a hairbrush from the bedside table and starting to brush out his long, silvery white hair.

"Well, ta make tings short – joo came ta da Fields draggin' Kain 'cause he be out cold, ja? And den I call da guildies, and dey come an' help, but joo faint too. Joo prolly hit your head on da stones, and dat's why joo can't 'member anyting." After this lengthy expression of butchered English, Guanji nodded to himself, satisfied.

"Why was Kain unconscious?" Felfe asked, worried. He wished he could remember!

"We dunno da details, but Yuren tinks dat it might have someting ta do wit Kain not eatin' enough." Guanji grinned a little at this. "I tink so, too."

"Who's Yuren?" Felfe asked faintly, bombarded with too much information.

"Oh. He's da second-in-command after Kain – like da assistant guild masta."

"Um, okay. So he decided to bring me here? He must be a nice guy." Felfe smiled.

"Well, mon, joo have ta decide dat for yourself." Guanji's smile faded for a moment. "He be kinda angry mos' da time, so be careful, ja?"

"I-I will." Felfe said, but he really was pretty scared of angry people in general.

"Speakin' ah which… I dunno where he be." Guanji scratched his head. "He shoulda been here now…"

"Maybe we should look for him?" Felfe suggested, concerned.

"Ja, dat be a good idea." Guanji flashed Felfe a toothy grin while giving him a thumbs up.

* * *

Guanji and Felfe entered Undercity's center to find it overrun with horde of every race, class, and IQ level. And there was a huge line leading straight to the elevator.

Guanji broke into a run, and Felfe followed him, wondering what in the world was going on. Soon enough, they came to the front of the line, and Guanji started asking a very ditsy young blood-elf rogue why the line was so long.

"Like, I don't know. The door just won't open, like, whenever I press the button." She twirled her blonde hair around a fingertip, pouting prettily. She was wearing an abundance of makeup.

Guanji scratched his head, then dug into his bags for some tools and opened the door to the inner workings of the elevator system. He fiddled around in there for at least two minutes, and then closed the hatch with a satisfied grin. His mohawk bobbed cheerfully as he bent over the buttons on the outside, pressing and holding one of them and then pushing a few others in quick succession.

The lights went on around the elevator. Guanji pressed one more button, and the doors whirred open.

Yuren and Lancelot were in the elevator. But that wasn't why Guanji was currently doubled over with laughter, and it certainly wasn't why Felfe was blushing cutely and trying to look away.

Lancelot was sitting down, his back to the elevator wall. Yuren appeared to have been in a sitting position, but was now was leaning forward with a hand on Lancelot's left cheek. The situation looked… incriminating, to say the least. Lancelot, seeing the mass of horde watching the two of them, flung up his hands as if to say 'it's not what it looks like.'

Yuren finally glanced around and realized his predicament, withdrawing his hand like it was on fire and standing. He brushed himself off awkwardly. "It's not what it looks like."

Guanji was still laughing, and even going so far as to point rudely. Felfe calmly took the offending arm and pushed it back down to Guanji's side before turning back to Lance and Yuren.

"Hi, Lance." He greeted politely, then turned to the undead warrior. "Nice to meet you – I'm Felfe."

"I'm Yuren." The undead guy said slowly, running skeletal fingers through his greasy hands.

"Oh! You're Yuren!" Felfe gasped. "Thanks for helping me yesterday."

Yuren looked at him strangely, and gave a shrug. Felfe found this to be a little rude, but he figured he wouldn't want to be in Yuren's situation, so he left it at that.

Guanji, meanwhile, was still laughing, and Lance was trying his best to look affronted and stiff like usual. Instead, he looked like he had been caught stealing the last cookie from the cookie jar. And it was a peanut butter and macadamia nut cookie.

"How is Kain?" Yuren asked, in an attempt to sound dignified. He was, after all, second-in-command.

Guanji glanced at Felfe, who glanced back with a confused expression. Guanji's lip curled downwards in a trollish frown. "Haven't seen 'im yet."

Yuren scowled, and walked ahead of them, heading for the mansion. "C'mon then, let's go." He said roughly, attempting to regain his vile reputation. It wasn't working.

* * *

Felfe, Guanji, Lancelot, and Yuren made their way to Kain's mansion, which was hidden somewhere in the depths of Undercity and furnished like Silvermoon's royal houses. Yuren opened the huge, oaken doors and stalked in, followed by the other three.

Kain's mansion was expensive looking. Very. All the walls were paneled and gilded in white and gold, and the ceilings sported domes and arches that looked like they were made with some sort of magic. They probably were.

The floors were white marble in some places, and tasteful red and white tiles in other rooms. Peeking into the rooms revealed by half-open, white paneled doors, Felfe could see that there was also rich, crimson carpeting in the more casual rooms.

To top it all off, all the curtains were a glorious red, with ties in gold, and gold fringe lining the hems. It was beautiful. So very beautiful.

Felfe would have said so, but at the moment there was a very insistent silence that had enveloped their group, and no one really felt like speaking. After all, though Yuren and Lance stubbornly maintained that there was nothing going on between them, the sparkle in Guanji's eyes – he was apparently big into matchmaking – told them that they weren't convincing anyone.

Although, Felfe had noticed that Lancelot had a bruise on that same cheek, so he was thinking that perhaps that had something to do with the explanation. Unfortunately, neither the undead nor the human had found an opportune time to give said explanation, so Felfe had no real way of knowing whether he was right in his assumption.

They passed too many rooms to count, and went through at least five hallways and seven huge, open sitting rooms before they came to the end of the path. The seemingly never-ending hall stopped here, at a large door that was apparently the entrance to Kain's bedroom.

Yuren took the liberty of opening the door and stepping in. Felfe followed, and then Guanji, and lastly Lancelot, who was trying his best to put distance between himself and the undead.

They all stepped into the room, and immediately noticed that Kain's bed was empty, the window was open, and the curtains were blowing mockingly in the wind. Felfe gasped, realizing the obvious.

"Oh, crumpets!" He cursed quietly, paling.

Yuren looked back at him like he was some kind of strange and disgusting museum display, and then pointed out the facts. "We're miles underground. That sky outside the window isn't real – it's just an illusion to make the place look nice." The word 'nice' was said with a certain loathing that was almost startling in its magnitude.

"Oh." And Felfe looked abashedly at the ground.

"… I wasn't anticipating visitors."

Felfe looked up to see Kain, standing in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom, leaning against the doorframe with a rather irritated look on his face. And he was wearing only a towel around his waist.

Felfe blushed lightly, and stared at the ground once more. Guanji snickered, and Lancelot shifted uneasily – no doubt unused to seeing this side, this _much_ of his rival. Yuren was completely unaffected, being that he was obviously straight. Or so he said.

"Hey, mon, we be worried bout joo." Guanji grinned.

"Why is it that you always manage to be less than half-clothed when people visit you?" Yuren rolled his eyes, and began herding the other three out of the room.

Lancelot coughed, Felfe looked confused, and Guanji grinned some more. "Anyting joo wanna tell us, Yu?"

"Shut up." Yuren hissed, closing the door behind them. He leaned against it with a familiar scowl.

Less than a minute later, the door banged open, causing Yuren to stumble heavily but catch himself before he met the floor. As he straightened back up, he noticed Lancelot's outstretched hand, which had been ready to catch him in the event that he had fallen.

Yuren glared venomously. "Do I look like a damsel in distress to you, huh?"

Lancelot withdrew the hand, a slightly offended look on his face. "Damsel or not, I was only doing the polite thing."

Yuren rolled his eyes, and belatedly noticed that Kain was now fully dressed, standing in the doorway, and watching the scene with great interest.

"So this is what you've been up to, Yuren." The much too perfect blood-elf smirked. "Well, you do need a hobby. Don't let me keep you from it."

Yuren said nothing, and settled for stalking off, no doubt trying to put more distance between himself and Lancelot.

Oddly enough, Kain sidled closer to Lancelot, giving him some advice in low tones. "I'd go after him, if I were you."

Lancelot narrowed his eyes at Kain, who didn't even flinch, and tried to make it look like he wasn't taking Kain's 'advice' as he exited the hallway and headed in the same direction that Yuren had left.

Guanji grinned widely, flashing Kain a thumbs up. "Dat was good, mon."

Kain nodded at Guanji absentmindedly, and then turned his attention to Felfe. Felfe, unfortunately, melted slightly at the gaze, and tried not to remember how Kain looked in that towel.

"Thank you for yesterday. And yes, I have already eaten a large breakfast today." Kain forced the gratefulness into the first sentence, but it was difficult. Blood-elves rarely expressed gratefulness at anything that wasn't their own doing. It just wasn't their nature.

"That's good." Felfe sighed in relief, ignoring the first sentence. "What happened yesterday, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Kain raised a dark, elegant eyebrow.

"He got am-knee-ji-ah. Amneejjia. Amnejia." Guanji tried to explain, but struggled with the unfamiliar word.

"Amnesia? How?" Kain asked, _his _English impeccable as always.

"He fainted after he carried joo to da Fields." Guanji said sadly, scratching his head.

Felfe stood there awkwardly, trying to look as not-pitiful as possible. But it was a losing battle, as Felfe tended to look pitiful pretty much all that time, no matter the circumstance.

Kain smiled. "You didn't miss much, don't worry."

Felfe looked at him questioningly. "But why did you faint?"

Kain shifted awkwardly, hating having to admit something like this. "I haven't been eating."

Felfe's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to start a tirade about how Kain shouldn't be starving himself, but was stopped by a hand over his mouth.

Guanji burst into laughter in the background, and Kain smirked in that sort of I'm-too-sexy-for-my-love way. Felfe, completely puzzled, pried the hand – Kain's – off his face indignantly.

"What was that for?" Felfe asked, slightly annoyed.

"I… anticipated that you would try to lecture me upon learning that I hadn't been eating. You did so yesterday." Kain explained lamely.

Felfe, now out of steam and in no mood to argue with Kain about the emotions behind not eating, just sighed.

Kain smiled, and Guanji laughed again. Felfe suspected it was because once again, he didn't know as much about the world as they did.

The three of them were all sharing a very key moment in their relationships when the door at the end of the hallway banged open, and a blood-elf woman dashed out of it, running towards them at an almost terrifying speed.

"Kain!" She shrieked, and threw herself at him, hugging him around the middle and burying her face in his chest armor. "Oh, Kain!" It sounded like she was actually sobbing, but Felfe couldn't see any tears.

"Silya… please refrain from such behavior." Kain admonished gently, prying the beautiful elf off of him.

And she was beautiful. With perfect skin the color of porcelain, hair as black as a raven's feathers, and eyes so big and green that they were like an ocean of emerald, drawing one into their endless depths… she was extremely beautiful.

A growing sensation began in Felfe's stomach, something that made him uneasy. He decided that he didn't like this woman – Silya – much. Not at all, in fact. Of course, he had a tendency not to like many people, so it wasn't really a special case this time, was it?

"Kain, I heard the news and I just _had _to come!" She exclaimed, looking fraught with worry. "But of course, I knew it was a load of lies…"

"Most likely not." Kain answered airily, sighing and leading them into one of the many drawing rooms. This was going to take a while.

"Well, I can't imagine most of it was true." She scoffed, gracefully taking a seat in one of the red silken armchairs.

"What exactly did you hear?" Kain demanded, sitting across from her in a rather gilded chair.

Felfe and Guanji exchanged curious looks as they took seats in a couple of white armchairs off to the side.

Silya giggled. "Getting information is _so _easy. You just have to know the right people, you know? Buy a few drinks to loosen peoples' tongues, and…"

"What did you hear?" Kain repeated, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Yuren had that covered already.

The woman scowled, denied her fun. "Fine, fine. Jeez. I heard a lot of stuff, but mostly that _you _were sick, in a coma, or… well… ya know… d-dead." Her voice wavered on the last note, and some emotion flickered behind her eyes, but she managed to restrain it.

"I was unconscious for a while, yes. But I am fine now." Kain affirmed, leaning back casually into his chair.

"You were!? Why!?" She sprang up from the chair, fuming.

"I have been… forgetting to eat…. lately." He admitted sullenly, being altogether tired of explaining himself in such a humiliating way.

The look on her face changed to an expression of horror, and then fury. "Kain! What have I told you about not eating!? I swear, after all I've done for you, you just go off and _starve yourself _like you wanna look like some _undead guy_! I can't believe you!"

A random undead npc in Undercity looked up for a moment, and scowled.

"Silya! Calm yourself." Kain sighed, folding his arms. "I am fine now. It will not happen again."

Felfe was amazed to hear Kain sounding almost repentant, like he was inferior to this woman. It was making him feel a bit… sick. And he wished it wouldn't, because he didn't want to faint at a time like this.

"It. Had. Better. Not." She growled, giving him a cold, hard glare before turning her back to him, satisfied.

The moment she turned around, it was as if she was a completely different person. Her eyes were alight, her expression concerned and softened. "I'll have to get some good, homemade food in you, won't I?"

"There is no need. I have already had breakfast." Kain protested weakly, but to no avail.

"Oh, yeah? I bet it was _freshly toasted bread_." She scowled.

"Actually, the term is 'toasted freshly baked bread.'" He muttered. She should have heard it, with those ears, but she made it look like she hadn't.

"Anyhow, whatever it's called, it's not a good enough breakfast. I'll simply have to… whip up something." She smiled in a cheerful way, which, on her, only caused her to look sinfully adorable.

"Please, Silya, don't-" Kain groaned, but was cut off by her shouting as she ran off to the kitchens.

"Don't worry! Just wait there a few minutes, and I'll have something ready!"

He sighed, a hand over his face as if to hide his humiliation from the world. Or, perhaps, just from Felfe and Guanji, who were still sitting near him.

Guanji seemed to be quite used to this, and only grinned a little bit before turning to Felfe. "So, mon, what joo tink of her?"

Felfe frowned, and tried to make it look like he was thinking deeply. "Um… who is she?"

Guanji looked puzzled for a moment, but then understanding registered in his eyes, and he laughed. "Haha, joo thought she was… she was…"

Kain looked over at them placidly as Guanji continued guffawing. "Silya is my younger sister, if you couldn't tell by the way she treats me." He sounded almost like he was sulking, which was unheard of for him.

"Oh." Felfe said quietly, waves of relief washing over him. She was just his sister. And she was only worried about his health, like Felfe was. But why was this making him feel so much better? Should he really be this concerned about Kain's possible relationships?

Guanji recovered from his laughter, and continued grinning. "Metink someone be a bit… jealous."

"N-no, of course not! That w-would be very rude…" Felfe stuttered, trying to sound unaffected and failing pathetically.

And then Silya burst into the room again with a bright, perfect smile. She went as if to drag Kain into the dining room, but hesitated when she finally noticed that Felfe and Guanji were sitting there.

And then her eyes lit up even more so than before. "Is that… Is that Felfe?"

Guanji gave Felfe a pitying look, and then sped off to the dining room without a glance back. Kain smiled. It was good not to be on the receiving end of his sister's… rapidly changing emotions.

Felfe nodded at her cautiously, and she squealed, which sent his heart leaping at the sudden loud noise. And then she rushed over to him, taking his face in her hands and examining him interestedly.

He told himself that she was probably a priest, and only had his best interests in mind. But she acted more like a… a warlock, or something. No, maybe a mage. Well, whatever. It's not like he'd gain a lot of knowledge by simply figuring out her class.

"He's so pretty!" She hugged him tightly, the sudden movement slightly terrifying its victim, as well as squeezing some of the air out of him.

But something stuck in Felfe's mind. She had known he was male, even before she'd hugged him. And that made him wonder about reassessing her in his mind. Perhaps… perhaps she wasn't so bad after all.

She at last let him out of her grip, and giggled happily. "Oh, Kain, where did you _find_ him?"

Scratch that. He didn't like her at all. And he certainly didn't like the way she was talking over him.

"You can ask him. He does talk, you know." Kain suggested.

Felfe nodded quickly, but she wasn't convinced. She looked a little bit disappointed. "Oh, are you sure?" She whined.

"O-of course I can talk." Felfe defended himself with only a minor stumble.

She beamed at him and looked entirely pleased. "Such an adorable voice, too."

Felfe felt even more uneasy, because she was still talking at him rather than to him. Fortunately, interruption arrived in the form of Yuren. "The food's getting cold." He said blankly.

* * *

Lunch was not edible, to say the least. It looked like Silya had taken some cans of soup and microwaved them. Actually, that was quite plausible considering her apparent lack of cooking skill.

Guanji, thankfully, showed Felfe how to inconspicuously dump the stuff back into the larger bowl from which Silya had given them their portions. And she didn't notice, not even when Felfe splashed some of the forge-fire hot soup onto his hand, and yelped.

Yuren, of course, was excused from such an ordeal, since he was undead and didn't eat anyway. And Silya seemed to pay no attention to him as it was.

There was no real conversation (not including Silya talking) until Yuren cleared his nonexistent throat.

"Kain, I have some bad news for you." He began calmly.

Kain looked up from his soup, having been staring at it in a wasted effort to make it vanish. "Bad news? About what?" His expression darkened.

"The guild." Yuren said shortly.

"… What is it?" Kain demanded, eyes narrowing.

"While you were unconscious, we performed the raid on Lady Vashj as scheduled. We were successful." Yuren said monotonously, careful not to put any emotion into it, lest he upset Kain further.

"What?" Kain hissed, abandoning his soup entirely in favor of looking rageful. "You defeated her without me!?"

"Yes. We had to find another paladin to fill in for you as main healer, though-"

"Quiet!" Kain snapped, eyes flashing.

"Everyone who's anyone knows already, if you don't mind me saying." Yuren lapsed back into his usual tone momentarily. "Anyhow, he wasn't used to raiding, and…"

"What?" Kain's green eyes widened. "No… don't tell me…!"

"We wiped on the first try."

"I don't believe it…" Kain had his head in his hands, now, and was looking distressed. "I can't believe it…"

Felfe watched worriedly as Kain began to look exceedingly panicked. "Kain…?"

But it was too late. Kain's eyes unfocused, and he slowly lost consciousness, falling back into his chair. Luckily, the chair caught him and prevented him from further injury.

At once, Silya was out of her chair and fussing over her older brother, all the while shrieking at Yuren. "How could you talk about stuff like that when you knew he was going to overreact!?"

"I had to tell him sometime…" The undead warrior rolled his eyes.

"Couldn't you have waited until he had recovered, huh?" She asked, giving up on reviving Kain and turning her attention solely on Yuren. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Yuren said nothing, giving the ceiling a helpless look before rising and exiting the room.

"Hey! I didn't say you could leave! I'm not finished with you – hey, get back here!" Silya screeched, bolting after him.

Felfe and Guanji took it upon themselves to move Kain to a couch in the sitting room, where they sat in relative silence until Guanji, like usual, opened up the conversation once more.

"She be a terror, ja?" He snickered. But even he looked a little bit shaken by the sheer power of Silya's rage.

"Y-yeah…" Felfe shivered. He had always been meekest when people became angry, even if their anger wasn't directed at him.

"But who cares bout dat." Guanji started to grin again. "I never been here when Kain be out like dis. How bout we explore some?"

Felfe blinked. "Explore?"

"Joo know, mon. Like… be all sneaky an' look around in his room." The troll's mohawk bobbed mischievously as he nodded with enthusiasm.

This idea caused Felfe to frown slightly. "But wouldn't that be… nosy?"

"So?" And Guanji started walking off without him, towards Kain's room at the end of the long hallway.

"Okay, okay, I'll come!" Felfe exclaimed, figuring he should at least keep Guanji from trouble.

* * *

They entered Kain's room and had to stare for a while at the wonderful décor. It was a pretty sizable room, all carpeted in a fluffy crimson rug. The walls were the same white-paneled, golden gilded ones that were common throughout the place. There were a couple of arched windows, flung open and framed by bright red curtains. The bed, placed in between the two windows, was very large. The blankets and pillows had a lovely red, white, and gold theme that matched the rest of the room, as well as a canopy in translucent blood-red with golden tassels.

Elsewhere in the room was a large gilded wardrobe, a cabinet which probably contained armor and supplies, and the door to the adjoining bathroom. Guanji, shameless, darted into the bathroom first. Felfe followed with a sigh.

When he entered, he immediately noticed that this was a very, very expensive bathroom. There was a large shower at one end of the room, and at the other was a huge tub set into the marble tile. It had to be at least five feet deep. And then there was the other usual items – sink, toilet, and mirror – all white porcelain with red and gold designs.

Felfe was still marveling at the beauty of the design when Guanji came back from looking in the shower, holding up a bottle. Felfe squinted, but he couldn't make out the writing on it.

"It be 'Herbal Essences,' mon." Guanji read, sniggering. "Dis one's lavender."

Felfe shrugged in a completely non-girlish way. "So?"

Guanji raised an eyebrow at Felfe's obvious obliviousness, but let it go and put the bottle back in its place.

They reentered the bedroom, and Felfe waited nervously as Guanji scavenged in the wardrobe, probably looking for something 'interesting' as he seemed to be muttering about 'what must be in here.'

"Aha! Told joo, mon!" The troll laughed triumphantly, pulling out an item from the wardrobe. Felfe was about to point out that Guanji hadn't told him anything when he actually got a look at the thing.

It was made of a soft, white, semi-transparent material. It looked a little bit like a robe, but it looked like it would cling to one's body almost ridiculously. There was a gold belt tied around the waist of the thing, set with rubies. The sleeves were long and wispy. The whole thing was very sheer and… dare Felfe think it… _gorgeous_.

"What is it?" Felfe asked curiously.

"A _robe_."

But that was Kain's voice.

"Ah… Kain. We be just… ah… puttin' away da stuff. Was lying 'bout, ja." Guanji said hastily, but Kain only raised an eyebrow.

"I could have you thrown out of the guild for that, Guanji. I suggest you be more careful." It was only sarcasm, but Felfe couldn't tell.

"Y-you wouldn't do that, would you?" The night-elf asked worriedly. "It was my idea, r-really!"

Now, both of Kain's eyebrows rose considerably. "Was it?"

And then Guanji decided to point out an interesting fact to both of them. "Dis robe be too small for joo, Kain." He gave the blood-elf a curious look that showed he knew _exactly _what he was implying.

"It is not mine. I bought it as a gift for a friend." Kain answered airily, taking the thing calmly from Guanji and _stuffing _it back into the wardrobe before shutting its doors.

Guanji just grinned, and towed Felfe from the room. "Must be a good friend, ja?"

Felfe nodded. "Yes, it looks pretty expensive, so it must be for someone he knows well."

At Felfe's sentence, Guanji stared blankly, almost disbelievingly. Felfe sure could be slow sometimes. Well, most of the time. Nah, all the time was more like it.

"It seems it is already past two. If both of you want to stay for another night, you are welcome to." Kain offered, his gaze directed mainly at Felfe.

Guanji and Felfe both nodded simultaneously. But then Guanji paused. "What 'bout Lance, mon?"

Kain's expression darkened considerably. "Hmmm…"

"He's your friend, too, right Kain?" Felfe asked, confused at the sudden change in the blood-elf's attitude.

Kain, surprised, saw Felfe's hopeful look, and knew he wouldn't be able to say otherwise. If only Felfe knew… If only he understood the whole thing…

"Lancelot can stay here if it pleases him." Kain conceded, trying not to sound too stiff.

Felfe's smile was worth more than a thousand nights of allowing his rival a room in the mansion.

* * *

**_Even _I _don't know if Yuren and Lancelot like each other that way. I really don't know._**


	4. Chapter 4

**Reviewers: **I thought it was obvious what (coughwhocough) the robe was for… lol. And as for Yuren and Lance, even I do not know what will happen.

**Random Notes: **Darn, I'm gonna have a hard time making this chapter longer than the last one. Okay, it turned out to be half as long. But I promise I'll make the next chapter longer!

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, etc.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Wrenn was not your typical blood-elf priest. Mostly because he was, in fact, a paladin. But also because he, unlike so many other male blood-elf paladins, actually wanted to serve the Light. Yes, that's right – Wrenn was very devoted to the Light. So devoted, in fact, that it was the main reason he was selected to become a paladin.

His interview, if you're interested, went something like this.

* * *

"I understand that you want to become a paladin, child." Lady Liadrin of the Blood Knights inquired, stating the obvious. 

"Yes, I really do." Wrenn nodded enthusiastically, his dark blue hair spiked, making him look like someone better fit to be a warrior. In contrast, he had quite pale skin, which gave him a bit of a mage look overall. Or maybe a hunter, if it weren't for his skin.

Liadrin raised a golden eyebrow. "You sound very happy."

"Of course! Being a paladin is my dream!" Wrenn smiled, raising a fist confidently in the air. His eyes practically sparkled.

"O-kay then." She said quickly, her eyes slightly wide. The normal recruits weren't quite this spirited. But perhaps spirit was a good thing for a paladin to have. Yes, perhaps.

"So you'll let me in?" He asked, mouth hanging open before he remembered to shut it.

"Yeah, sure." She said, handing him the paperwork uneasily. What a weirdo.

He took it from her with shaking hands, expression showing utmost reverence. He grasped the pen, which her holy hands had touched just a moment before, and wrote a flowing signature on the dotted line.

She smiled, and he didn't notice her gaze examining him, trying to see if he was for real. Unfortunately, he was.

"And, uh, here's the last paper. It's about your vow of chastity." She handed him a second document, one that new paladin recruits dreaded. Of course, they usually went off and did their own thing anyway, but it still scared them. And it meant they couldn't hit on her.

"Okay." He said calmly, still smiling. He signed it with a flourish of the quill pen, and returned it to her with the other papers.

She eyed him with disbelief. How could he sign that and _smile_? It was impossible – no man should have been able to achieve that! The whole point to becoming a paladin was the challenge of being completely chaste. No one she had interviewed had ever reached the goal before even being initiated – it was unheard of!

"So, I come back here in the morning to start my training?" He asked, still perky as ever.

"Y-Yeah." She said awkwardly. This wasn't right. She was a calm lake, a calm lake. But it was so strange that this man – this _boy_ – made her this nervous. "You are dismissed."

She managed to pull off the last sentence without mishap, luckily.

"Yes, milady." He said cheerfully, bowing splendidly and walking back up the stairs and into Farstriders' Square.

She sighed. He was attractive, no doubt about it. And he'd have his handful of followers soon enough. What a mess, like usual.

* * *

So, as you can see, Wrenn was _not _like the other male blood-elf paladins. Not at all. So it was only natural that, as he exited the headquarters of the Blood Knights, he was shocked to see a group of five or six other paladins hanging around in the doorway. Well, the fact they were standing there wasn't all that shocking, actually. 

No, what stunned him was that they were all talking in a close knit circle, hunched over like discussing some secret. And, dare he even think it, they looked shady. Very. Even though they wore the usual paladin outfits, the slouch was there. And their motions were exaggerated to the maximum.

They turned to him as he walked out, and one that appeared to be the leader walked straight up to him, near enough that Wrenn was uncomfortable, and wondering who in the world ate murloc for breakfast. But that wasn't all, unfortunately.

"Hey, kid, you a new recruit or somethin?" The man asked. He had silvery hair in a topknot, and his armor marked him as some sort of veteran, but he sure didn't sound like one.

"Yeah. I am." Wrenn said hesitantly. "What of it?"

The other paladins gasped for some reason, and the older man snarled. In a moment, the leader had seized the collar of Wrenn's orange martial shirt, and had brought him painfully close to his face. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, cupcake."

The others seemed to calm down, and started sniggering in the background. Wrenn raised an eyebrow. "Cupcake?"

"Yeah, you know, those tasty dessert things that everyone eats nowadays." The man explained, completely forgetting his shadiness.

Wrenn was now wholly confused. An awkward silence loomed.

The leader rolled his eyes. "Lissen up, kid, and lissen good. You're gonna forget whatever you heard us talkin about just now, and run along like a good boy."

"But I didn't hear anything." Wrenn frowned, puzzled.

"Don't act like you're so smart!" The silver-haired paladin snarled. "Or I might hafta teach you a lesson!"

Wrenn knew that threats of _this _nature were absolutely forbidden for paladins. And he knew his duty, unlike these morons. He narrowed his eyes, giving the group a disapproving look.

"I don't know what kind of paladins you are, but I'm going to report you to the commander." He said, looking serious.

The group burst into hysterical laughter, and the leader smirked. When Wrenn folded his arms, wondering what they thought was so funny, the leader decided to throw him a scrap of explanation.

"Yeah, kid. You do that." He grinned wickedly, uneven teeth showing. "But jus' so you know, I _am _the commander."

"What? You?" Wrenn squeaked, panicked. No! His commander was supposed to be a man of holiness, an idol to be worshipped and revered. Not a disheveled, rambunctious guy who went around with some sort of gang!

"Yeah, me. Champion Bachi. But you can just call me 'Master.'" The leader growled, beckoning to the other paladins. "Now boys, I think it's time to teach this kid a little lesson."

The others smiled evilly, and Wrenn backed up. Surely they wouldn't beat him up – not here, right by the enclave of the Blood Knights! That was blasphemy!

As the fists began to sink into him with staggering pain, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. The hits continued as he whimpered, inflicting nasty bruises on his body in every place but those that would be visible.

'_They've done this before…' _Wrenn thought vaguely, feeling sick, like his head was full of swirling mist and nothing else.

* * *

Wrenn came to in a storeroom, and weakly pushed himself up into a sitting position. No doubt about it, there were definitely some crits there. Those sure made nasty bruises. Usually they were all sunflower yellow – very unnatural looking. Especially on his pale skin. 

He wouldn't be able to wear shorts or sleeveless shirts for a while. And all his armor was going to grate harshly on the new injuries. _'Darn. This is really… not what I thought it was going to be like.'_

But he steeled himself, making a vow that one day he would purify the paladin order. All the unclean would be washed away, leading to a new group of elite paladins whose only goal was to walk in the Light. Yes, he would do that.

As soon as he made it to the first day of training and back again. Alive, hopefully.

He sighed, but like the aspiring paladin he was, he stood shakily and made his way back to his residence to clean up.

* * *

Wrenn's first day of training came and went, with added bruises and more taunts from the commander. He was feeling quite lightheaded and a bit depressed as he made his way from the Blood Knights' headquarters, so he didn't even think about the possibility of an ambush. 

And what an ambush! She came out of nowhere, materializing right behind him like she'd been standing there all along. Which she probably had been, since she was a rogue.

"Yo." The blood-elf woman said, clad in tight leather, her hands on her hips.

"Uh… hi." Wrenn answered as politely as he could, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. There was a huge headache there, right at his temples.

"So…" She stalked closer to him, fiery ponytail swinging as she walked. "You're the new guy, huh?"

He frowned. "Well, yeah, I'm a new paladin. How did you know?"

She laughed, as if this was something incredibly funny. "Oh, I keep track somehow." That was definitely sarcasm.

He smiled, trying to act as paladin-y as possible, hoping she'd leave him alone soon. Maybe she just needed directions. Right. "Did you need something?"

That, unfortunately, elicited an unnerving gaze, which ran from his feet back up to his face, lingering on certain spots for longer than was necessary. When her eyes at last reached his again, she smirked in that blood-elf way. "Why yes, I do."

He shifted uncomfortably, and folded his arms, trying to look intimidating but at the same time helpful. "What is it you need assistance with?"

She came a little closer, close enough that he was having to resist the urge to run away in fear. What was this rogue up to, anyhow? Normally, women wouldn't just stand this close for no reason. Maybe it was something she didn't want other people to hear, like she murdered her boyfriend and wanted to know where she could go to confess and be cleansed or something. Not that she looked like she wanted cleansing.

In fact, the way she was reaching up with one hand, and resting it on the side of his face, it almost reminded Wrenn of those cheesy romance movies he used to watch, before he decided that he wanted to serve the Light. He didn't watch those things anymore, obviously.

Wait, romance movies? Could it be that she wanted _that sort of thing _from him? But that was ridiculous! She had said herself that she knew he was a new paladin, so why…

"Why so serious?" She teased, full lips smiling darkly.

"Please remove your hand." He stated slowly, starting to back away.

She frowned, looking offended, but pulled a pale hand back to her side. "What, you only like to watch?"

"Watch?" He echoed.

"Well that's fine, too." She laughed. "You just had to say so."

"No, I don't think you understand. I'm a _paladin_." He stressed the last word, knowing that she would see her mistake in it.

"Yes, you're a paladin." She brushed dark bangs out of her eyes. "That's what makes it fun, isn't it? The thrill of forbidden love…"

Though she said all this with a strange voice that made chills go through his body, the logical part of his mind had just informed him that she still wasn't getting the picture. And that was most certainly bad.

"Look," He explained carefully. "I'm not looking for a relationship."

She looked incredibly shocked, as well as outraged and offended, so he decided to make a quick escape. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, after all.

He gave a quick salute and headed off to his home, hearing her screeching in the background. Probably at him, but that was of no concern. He was a paladin, after all, and he wasn't going to break his vow of chastity. Ever.

* * *

Not too far away from Silvermoon – if you count a few zones a small distance – Felfe was just waking up in Undercity, in a nice, comfy bed. 

'_Wow, I haven't slept so well in ages!' _He remarked to himself, smiling. A yawn interrupted, and fought the smile for a moment before taking over. And then the smile was back again, as always.

He rose from the bed after another thirty minutes of half-asleep resting, and threw on his everyday clothes hurriedly. He had realized, last night, that there was no lock on his door. Or any of the doors, for that matter. Heck, there wasn't even a lock on Kain's door!

Supposedly, this was because some blood-elves (not to name anyone in particular) had nasty habits of sinking into bouts of depression. They insisted it was just the mana deprivation, but for the rogues that just didn't work out. Eventually it was assumed that the blood-elves had personalities that naturally resulted in massive despair every once in a while.

So there were no locks on the doors, because no one knew if they'd have to go find Kain sometime and see if he was all right. After all, it wasn't like the doors could be broken down – they cost far too much.

Felfe had all his clothes on save his shirt when there came a knock on the door. He jumped, pulling his shirt on over his head in panic. "Just a minute!" He squeaked.

He finished putting on the shirt, and seized a nearby hairbrush quickly. He ran it through his hair a few times before dashing to the door and opening it.

Lancelot stood there.

"Uh… good morning, Lance." Felfe greeted politely. But he was a little confused as to what Lancelot was doing at his door this early in the morning. Well, okay, so it was nine o' clock already, but to Felfe that was early.

"Good morning." Lancelot answered automatically, but looked quite disturbed. Perhaps he had gotten the wrong room number? Maybe he was looking for Yuren?

But all that was dispelled when the paladin ran his fingers through golden hair, and explained himself. "Could I talk to you… for a bit?"

Felfe frowned, puzzled, but nodded. "Sure, come in."

Lancelot gave a half-bow, and walked into the room. Felfe shut the door, figuring that this must be something important if Lance was coming to _him _to talk.

Felfe sat down on his bed, and Lance stood there awkwardly.

"There's a chair over there." Felfe suggested amiably, and Lancelot seemed to notice this, and seated himself.

There was an awkward silence, in which Lance coughed a couple times and Felfe examined his nails with interest. Finally, Felfe had to break the ice. With a sledgehammer.

"Is this about Yuren?" He asked bluntly, full of curiosity.

Lance looked greatly surprised at Felfe's guess, and nodded slowly. "I… I'm not sure what exactly I've gotten myself into."

Felfe nodded, folding his arms and trying to look concerned and compassionate at the same time. "Well, what happened? I mean, with you and him."

"I met him yesterday morning outside Undercity. I was here to take you back to Southshore –" He paused when Felfe looked confused. "Because I was under the impression that you had been abducted."

Felfe nodded yet again, still not quite understanding.

"So he agreed to escort me to Kain since I wanted to discuss that, but the elevator broke." He continued, gesturing in a rather comical way. "I happened to be working on a literary work regarding the lives of undead, so I started asking him a few questions. It didn't really go well, but eventually we came to a sort of mutual understanding."

"Hmm." Felfe nodded, beginning to get a clearer picture. But he couldn't see Yuren, of all people, coming to a mutual understanding with anyone.

"So then he was asking about the bruise I got," Lancelot pointed out the bruise on the left side of his face. "And he was asking if it hurt because I had skin that was alive."

"I said no, so he decided to poke it to be sure. But that hurt, and for some reason he patted my cheek, as if that was going to make it feel better." Lancelot scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And then the doors opened and I suppose everyone got the wrong idea."

"So that's why…" Felfe mumbled, and then broke off, smiling. "Well, that's not confusing at all!"

Lancelot frowned.

"Is it?" Felfe looked puzzled again. "What's _really _bothering you, Lance?"

"… I don't know why, but I feel as if… As if smiling comes easier when I'm near him. And that's ridiculous, because he's about as cheerful as my Uncle Larren on cleaning day." Lance seemed to pout for a moment, but he managed to make it look dignified.

"That's interesting." Felfe remarked, but he was really just making idle conversation. He was trying to figure out the implications of Lance's words.

"So really, I'm concerned that perhaps I… care for him. In some way." Lancelot shook his head, disgusted with himself. "I'm disgusted with myself."

"Well it sounds like a pretty normal feeling to me." Felfe comforted, remembering that he felt that way all the time around Kain. "Maybe you want to be his friend?"

Lancelot seemed to come to a realization, at this, and perked up. "That's it! You're right, I do feel like that."

Felfe smiled happily, satisfied that he had helped his friend. "That's great!"

And then Lancelot bolted from the chair and went to the door. He turned as he opened it, giving Felfe a wave. "Thank you, thank you!" And he exited.

Felfe sat on the bed, feeling triumphant and wondering if breakfast would be something good. He decided to go find out.

* * *

Felfe had a solitary breakfast of toast and eggs – he, unlike Kain's sister, knew how to cook – and then made his way to the sitting room. He had heard voices coming from there, so he figured that Kain, Guanji, and perhaps someone else was there. 

He opened the hallway door and padded in to see Guanji, Kain, and Lancelot talking in low whispers. When they saw the night-elf, they all sat bolt upright, and continued talking in much louder tones. Felfe found this quite odd, but said nothing as he sat down on a tall cushion next to Guanji's chair.

"Good morning." Kain greeted him, smiling. The other two followed suit, and Felfe returned the sentence.

Felfe was about to ask them about whatever it was they had been talking about, but was interrupted by the door at the end of the hallway banging open. He put on a half-smile, knowing it was probably Silya.

It wasn't.

A blood-elf woman entered dramatically, striding down the hallway at a quickened pace, and halted as she laid eyes on Kain. She seemed to stifle a gasp, and came to stand in front of him, giving a perfect curtsy.

And she was beautiful beyond measure. With perfect pale skin like the Light itself had crafted it from cream and seafoam, hair as black as the depths of the ocean and twice as fluid, and eyes that shone like bright green stars that would dot an alien sky in Outland. Her figure was without flaw, and she possessed a subtle grace that made every move she made look effortless though she must have practiced them many times. And that gaze… even though Felfe saw it from the side, he could tell that that kind of gaze could cause kings to fall from their thrones, waves to stop their crash against the land, planets to cease in their orbit. It was astounding.

Kain was unfazed. He gave her a slightly curious, slightly annoyed look.

Unfortunately, Felfe interpreted this look in another way, and was greatly irritated. "Is this another of your sisters, Kain?" He asked in a very fake cheerfulness.

"I have no idea who she is." He answered, casting Felfe an odd look, as if wondering what was wrong with him.

"We have not had the pleasure of meeting, Lord Kain." The woman explained, sultry tones adding to the already musical quality of her voice. "My name is Alyane. I have transferred here from another realm."

"Pleasure." Kain returned dryly, completely unaffected by her charms. "Why have you come?"

"To see you, of course." She said, her motions unwavering as if she had played them out time and time again.

"Please leave, then." Kain sighed. "I am not interested."

Immediately the look on her face became surprised, and yet it still could have stopped an army in its tracks. "Is that so?"

"Indeed." He replied, now not even looking at her.

She looked incredibly disappointed. "What a pity… I suppose you're not interested in women at all, are you?"

His focus snapped back to her in an eyeblink, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Something you would like to say?"

Guanji was snickering, but when both Kain and Alyane's glares met him he promptly paled and fainted. They were that good at that.

Felfe looked quite alarmed, and didn't like this new lady one bit. He wished Lancelot were here, so he could dispose of her – no! That was a horrible thought! Sure, she was nasty, but that didn't mean she had to die. Well, maybe not…

"As I was saying," Alyane continued, mischievous look on her face. "It's such a pity that such a handsome man as yourself would prefer… other men over women."

The look he gave her was one of death – the instant 'you will die now' glare that had resulted in so many casualties for people who opposed him. She did not even wince.

"I see." She said simply. And then she turned to see Felfe still sitting there. "Well, well. I didn't even notice you before."

Felfe frowned, hoping this one wasn't going to tell him he was adorable. I mean, sure, it was kinda a compliment, but he didn't appreciate being talked at like some puppy.

She walked over to him, leaning down to capture his face in her hands. Felfe winced, trying not to look into her eyes, but she forced him to, and so he looked. That gaze was even more magnificent when viewed head-on. It filled his vision, and had he not been a complete fairy he probably would have melted in it.

As it was, he only squirmed. "L-let me go!"

And then, so quickly that even Kain had no chance to stop it, Alyane kissed Felfe. Her lips were soft, like rose petals, and moved over his with utter dominance, allowing him no escape.

And then the lips left his harshly, as Kain practically shoved the Hungering Cold under her nose. She leaned back as he guided her threateningly away from Felfe with the point of the weapon. Felfe, who, meanwhile, was trying not to gag. But he still had to cough a few times.

As Kain held the sword pointed unwaveringly at her throat, Alyane smiled. "I see."

Kain's eyes narrowed, and Felfe looked up at last with a relieved expression. At least he was free, now.

"You saw nothing." Kain said harshly, sheathing the sword. She smiled more widely. And then she turned to Felfe, and saw that the night-elf was fighting back tears.

Kain also turned, and for a terrible moment gaped, unsure of what to do. Felfe was crying. And it was his fault. Well, technically it wasn't, but Kain wasn't in the sort of state where he could tell.

"Felfe, it's all right." Kain said calmly, seating himself beside his friend worriedly and patting his back. Felfe tried to wipe a tear from his eye, but it escaped and rolled down his cheek.

Alyane was stunned. She rushed over to Felfe, and, ignoring the look of utmost loathing from Kain, took the night-elf's pale hand and patted it comfortingly. "I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

Felfe smiled tearfully at her. "It's o-okay. I'm j-just o-overreacting."

She sat down on the other side of him, and handed him a handkerchief. "I didn't mean to scare you. I only wanted to be sure." She said gently.

Kain shot her a sharp, questioning look, which she ignored.

Felfe sneezed, and then started wiping his eyes with the handkerchief. "S-sure of what?"

She smiled warmly, and suddenly he found his tears stopping. She was indeed very talented, even if he wasn't attracted to women.

"I have a quest, you see." Alyane explained slowly. "To ensnare all the men of this world."

Kain snorted, having heard this line quite a few times.

She glared at him icily. But when she turned her gaze back to Felfe, it was calm and gentle again. "But do not worry – you are not the kind of man I usually go after. I just had to be sure, you see."

Felfe nodded, relieved. Then he seemed to think of something. "What… what about Kain?"

Kain stiffened visibly, though Felfe didn't notice. Alyane glanced at both of them, and her eyes widened in surprise.

'You're not together?' Alyane mouthed to Kain, astonished. Felfe, still drying his face, again did not notice.

Kain gave her a harsh look that was obvious in meaning. She smiled at the interesting situation.

Felfe looked at her expectantly after finishing with the handkerchief. She took it back from him and gave a small smile. "No, Lord Kain is also not the right sort of man for my quest."

Felfe smiled happily, and said, "Well, that's good!"

And they all left it at that.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviewers: **Well, daaaaarn. I really didn't expect you guys to be so protective of Felfe. It's… rather heartwarming. And it looks like Wrenn's going to be a new favorite. Hehe.

**Random Notes: **In the last scene I switch POV's from Kain to Felfe and back a few times – sorry if it's confusing. Also, I know it took forever to get this up, but really, I had a hard time writing the last scene. It was... difficult.

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, etc.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Wrenn walked to the Blood Knight training site the next morning feeling tired. Very tired. His numerous bruises, though he had treated them with a poultice of leg meat, had kept him awake far into the night, especially since they covered his body, which meant that no matter what position he lay in he was aggravating at least five crits.

And by his location, it was apparent that things wouldn't get better. He, Commander Bachi, and the rest of the male paladin recruits were currently in the middle of nowhere – in other words, Eversong Woods. This was probably so that they could run laps and have fake sparring matches and all that good stuff, but Wrenn really couldn't appreciate the change of scenery at the moment.

He tried his best to look up-to-par as he fell into line behind the other male paladin recruits, but it was difficult. Though none of the others were concentrating on the start-of-the-day exercises, they seemed to fit in just fine. They laughed and whispered in low tones as they took a few laps around the forest for a warm-up, and Wrenn could only watch from his place in the group, alienated and alone.

Breathing heavily, Wrenn finished his laps and came back into place behind a guy with hair so long that is looked like it would be almost painful to wash. And yet, it was as shiny and impossibly perfect as could be. Not that Wrenn's own hair, wasn't of course – he wasn't a blood-elf for nothing – but he was feeling particularly down and needed something to mentally complain about.

So he stared at the man's silky blonde hair for a moment, all the while thinking horrible thoughts that would probably strike the Light as very not paladin-like. And then, realizing his mistake, he tore his gaze away with a jerk of his head. He was here to serve the Light, not to think nasty thoughts about his peers.

'_I am a paladin, I am a paladin, I am a paladin…' _He repeated fervently, the words flowing through his mind in an almost calming way. No matter what happened, everything would be okay. Because he, _Wrenn_, was a _paladin. _A protector of the innocent, defender of all that is just, servant of the Light, and warrior of the holy forces. He was a paladin.

"All right, boys, it's time to meet yer ladies!" The commander hollered with a grin, bringing cheers and smirks from the recruits.

Wrenn deadpanned for a moment, not being able to believe what he had heard. _'Is he… serious? What in the world is he planning?'_

He followed the other recruits' gazes and saw a large group of blood-elf women being lead towards him by _their _commander. All of them were armored just like the male recruits, but their clothes seemed to fit more snugly, as if they were supposed to be that tempting.

'_No! I am a paladin!' _Wrenn reminded himself, modestly looking away from the crowd of female paladin recruits. _'And it's not like these women are here for that, anyway. The commander just likes to tease us.'_

The female group came to a halt, and may cheers and whistles could be heard from both sides. Wrenn, still looking calmly at a blank spot on the wall a hundred feet away, made no noise at all. And then the commander spoke again in his loud, gruff voice.

"Now then, pick a partner!"

Wrenn looked around, and quickly seized the arm of one of his peers, who had been walking past him. Unfortunately, he didn't realize the man had been walking _that fast_, and ended up causing him to fall onto the floor rather indignantly.

"Hey, what's the deal!?" The other guy asked, picking himself up off the ground and shaking Wrenn's hand off his arm.

"I wanted to be partners." Wrenn said simply, confused. Although he was a bit sorry he had accidentally tripped the fellow.

The other guy gaped at him for a moment, and then cringed. "Ew... that's just gross."

"What?" Wrenn frowned, starting to really not like this guy at all.

"Hey guys, we've got ourselves another gay one!" The guy shouted, walking away from Wrenn with a shudder.

And then Wrenn found himself with an iron grip on his shoulders, and staring into the disgusted – and disgusting – face of Commander Bachi. He gave a small squeak due to fear, which the commander apparently interpreted as a sign of gayness.

"Don't be makin' the mistake of trying for one of them, they're straight." The older man growled, not appreciating the trouble Wrenn had caused.

Wrenn, on the other hand, was completely confused. "What?"

The commander sighed. "Look, kid, you belong over _there_."

He pointed out a group of male blood-elves off to the left side of the regular group. They were all sitting cross-legged in a circle, making daisy-chains and painting their nails. Wrenn noticed vaguely that they all had very, very long hair.

One of them, a guy with long, blonde hair that looked kinda familiar, waved at Wrenn when he noticed the commander pointing at them. "Hey, we don't mind! I'm sure we can figure out a threesome or something!"

Wrenn's mind reviewed some of the information quickly. _'They aren't that bad, so – wait a second, did they call me 'gay?' Oh NO. I am NOT gay. I mean, do I LOOK gay? I have short, spiky hair for the Light's sake!'_

"Hey, I'm not gay!" Wrenn protested, shoving his commander rather violently off him – well, his hands, that is – and additionally making quite the scene. "I just wanted a guy for a partner. That doesn't mean I'm –"

"GAY." The commander finished for him, pointing at him accusingly. "Definitely gay."

"Huh?" Wrenn asked, completely puzzled.

"We're choosing _partners _here, Sally, not friggin' _best friends._" Bachi rolled his eyes.

Wrenn's face drained of color. He gulped at the older man, who was looking decidedly smug now. This was ridiculous. He couldn't mean that they were actually going to have… well… _partners_. I mean, they were paladins! Nothing in the Book of Light said that two paladins could be partners like that – it was still against the code!

And then it dawned on Wrenn why they all thought that he was… that he was… "Oh, ew! No, no, no! I didn't mean it like that, I just-"

"Well if you aren't gay, then get moving, kid! All the good ones are gonna be taken." Commander Bachi winked, giving Wrenn a harsh shove towards the girls.

Wrenn paled. There was nothing he could do but follow his orders. _'I am a paladin, must remember, must remember.'_

And with that mantra firmly in place, he strode over to the large group of women, hesitantly joining the rest of his class. He only hoped that he would end up with someone who wasn't expecting more than he could give.

* * *

Wrenn quickly found that, though many of the females were already taken, many were yet open. This was probably because the males were periodically dumped for 'better' ones. So one such recruit might find himself a partner but then be out of luck if another, more handsome male came forward.

Which put Wrenn in a bit of a situation, since firstly he wasn't that much to look at. Well, in terms of blood-elves he wasn't. Most humans would say he was gorgeous, but unfortunately next to other more practiced specimens of the same race, Wrenn was just average. But that wasn't all. He was going to have to approach one of the female paladins. Approach, in this case, meaning 'swagger up to and attempt to look sexy.' Because hey, that was just how everyone else was doing it.

And Wrenn thought he would rather die than make such a big fool out of himself in front of everyone. But there would be no backing down. He had to get through this, or his life – his path – would end here.

So, with a murmured repetition of his paladin mantra and a quick inconspicuous swig of a non-alcoholic fruity drink, he attempted to look comfortable with the current event, and cast his eyes over the remaining crowd of females.

And at once he was at a loss over who to choose. Sure, if he was just a normal guy he'd go for the hottest one, or the one with the fiery expression on her face (not that that was an easy thing to figure out, since they mostly all had that look on). Wrenn just wanted one that would be easy to work with, and would understand that he, unlike all the others, did _not _care to abandon his morals.

And then he saw it. At the heart of all the chaos, there was a steady commotion of blood-elf men, coming and going, and the ones who left came to stand at the edge of the area, like they were watching. What in the world was going on?

Wrenn, his curiosity piqued, went over to check it out, being sure to look as casual and nondescript as the others. He joined the circle around the small area and looked in to see a few males – pretty darn attractive ones, too, not that Wrenn could tell – flirting with a rather average, looking-exactly-like-all-the-others woman. But one thing was definitely strange. The woman wasn't flirting back.

Wrenn came forward a bit more in order to catch what they were saying. He couldn't help it, after all. It was interesting.

"If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?" One of the males asked, smirking in that characteristic blood-elf way.

Wrenn rolled his eyes, knowing that this was the most ridiculous of pick-up lines. But he hadn't reckoned on the next guy having a worse one.

"I bet the sun hides itself in shame when it sees you." The second joked, stepping closer to the woman than was necessary.

"Not interested." The female paladin said airily.

"Was your father a thief? 'Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes." The third guy said, daring to go closer to her.

Wrenn, by now, was completely disgusted with these creeps, and he could tell that all the others were acting exactly the same to their potential partners. But the difference was that, apparently, this woman didn't like it. And they couldn't understand why.

Obviously, Wrenn knew what the 'why' was. They were just complete idiots.

"Just go away." She sighed, but stood her ground.

The first of the three suddenly seized her arm, and grinned devilishly. "Oh, you're stubborn, but I can tell you want me."

"I want you to leave." She hissed, trying to get out of his grip.

The other two laughed while the insulted one scowled at her, fury contorting his face in such a way that he didn't look so handsome anymore. He gripped her tightly, knuckles white against her pale skin. She let out a shriek, calling for help.

Wrenn suddenly realized the horrible wrongness of the situation, and stepped forward immediately to aid her. How dare those lecherous men lay hands on her holy body! It was blasphemous!

Without thinking, he forced his way into the circle and knocked the first guy out with a sweeping fist, turning to face the other two with an irritated expression. "You should be ashamed to call yourselves paladins!"

And with that said, he took the woman's hand and glanced back at the soon-to-be-pursuers. "Come on, let's go!"

And he led her out of the circle and away from the chaotic group.

Meanwhile, back at the group the first guy was regaining consciousness, and the other two were helping him to his feet. They looked awestruck for a moment before sharing knowing looks.

"I wish I would have thought of that." The first guy said, amazed.

"No, man, I think… I think he was serious." The second one said hollowly, stunned.

* * *

Wrenn, after taking his charge out of eyesight of the rest of the recruits, released her hand sheepishly. "Are you all right?"

She stared up at him with admiring eyes, and said wonderingly, "Finally, a _real _paladin…"

He blinked, taking in that beautiful sentence with awe. A real paladin… he was a real paladin… just him… nobody else. He scratched the back of his head, blushing awkwardly. "Thanks. I… I try."

"I mean, most people would have just stood back and watched, so…" She shrugged casually, and he could tell that she felt a bit awkward, too.

He only nodded and smiled after she said that, which left them both at a rather unnerving silence. He shifted uneasily, until finally he figured out something to say.

"You're… different. From the others, I mean." It was a pretty stupid and obvious thing to say, but he had nothing better.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment before nodding, figuring it was a compliment. "So are you."

"So… uh…" He shifted, nervous. "Wanna be partners? But not like that or anything, just…"

"Friends?" She asked, amazed. Her eyes seemed to be almost glittering. "You just want to be… friends?"

Wrenn now realized that the glittering was tears, which were now unabashedly running down her face. He had to do something! "W-well I mean, I can't break my vow of chastity, and I'd never want to force you into something like all those buffoons over there, so I thought-"

"You're so wonderful!" She exclaimed, wiping her face as yet more tears streamed down it.

Wrenn quickly took out a plain, definitely not-lacy handkerchief and handed it to her. She appeared stunned that he even carried a handkerchief, but took it nonetheless. With a grateful nod, she began drying her tears.

And that was when Wrenn found his partner, and things started to look up.

* * *

Felfe, many miles away, was feeling rather exhausted. And he had a headache. But he wasn't about to let anyone in on that, of course. After all, they'd just give him a mana potion and put him to bed. Mana potions, for those of you unaware, tended to act as a sleeping draught for people without mana – rogues and warriors, basically.

But the point was that Felfe couldn't let anyone know, because he didn't want to trouble them. After all, he was overstaying his welcome already. He shouldn't have stayed the first night, nevermind last night as well. But he had been so tired, and Kain insisted. And that, of course, meant that Lance was free to stay another night as well, though Felfe thought he saw Kain's eye twitch when he conceded for the second time.

But really, Kain seemed to be getting on better with Lancelot than ever before. Felfe had seen them at dinner, talking civilly and acting as if they were good acquaintances. And there had been that time yesterday when he had walked in to see them talking rather casually. But they had quickly stepped away from each other the moment they spotted him, which made Felfe think that, somehow, they didn't want to be seen as friends.

And, of course, that bothered Felfe because he couldn't understand it.

He gave a quiet yawn, troubled, and eased into a sitting position. He reached up to feel his forehead, which seemed to be containing a demolition project. It was going to be difficult to keep that a secret, but he'd try.

Felfe had no idea that Lancelot, three rooms away, would have practically cried at the night-elf's valor. And Lance didn't even know the half of it. Of course, neither did Felfe, but alas. Such is the curse of obliviousness.

A few knocks came on the door, and Felfe hopped out of bed – rubbing his forehead and hoping the pounding would cease soon – and hurried to the door. Luckily he slept in clothes, unlike some other people. Other people meaning, of course, those who talked rather loudly about their personal lives.

And so, as he opened the door, he was quite thankful that he had on a pair of light blue pajama pants and a matching button-down shirt. Not that the 'matching' bit mattered, but… well, there was his appearance to think about, too, not just what percent of him was clothed. Not that he ever thought in percents – this _is _Felfe we're talking about.

It was Silya, already dressed at nine o' clock in the morning and looking cheerful. "Hey, breakfast is almost ready if you want some. It's eggs and pancakes."

She had, through Kain's insistence, managed to stop talking _at_ him, but she still tended to use a strange tone of voice she spoke to him. Something reminiscent of how his mother used to sound when he was a little boy in Teldrassil. But it was confusing that Silya spoke like that, since he wasn't exactly a child anymore.

But he didn't mind that much. And she was smiling gently, which was a nice expression on her, so he felt a bit comforted. "Sure, I'll be there in a minute."

"Good." She waved and closed the door, her muffled footsteps fading away.

He sighed, clutching his head as it ached. Well, it wouldn't do to dwell on it. He'd just have to get through it, like every time he managed to catch something. Not that he thought this was a sickness, but headaches generally didn't come from nowhere. Or maybe they did – he really didn't know the details.

Nevertheless, he donned his regular outfit – just a white linen shirt and a plain leather vest with his bard's pants and boots. He left off some of the more annoying pieces of equipment, like the shoulders and his daggers. After all, he wasn't going to face any monsters here.

With a weak smile at his own silliness – like there would be monsters here, right – he pushed open the door and made his way to the dining room.

* * *

Soon enough, Kain entered and everyone immediately started consuming the delicious pancakes. Heaps of eggs were on a platter near the middle of the table, along with a tureen of maple syrup and a smaller plate of sausages. Felfe dished out some eggs for himself – he couldn't stand sausage, it was always too spicy for him – and began to eat.

"Dis be good stuff, mon!" Guanji exclaimed, gesturing with his fork so enthusiastically that bits of egg flew off it.

Lancelot picked some egg out of his hair, and frowned at the troll sitting next to him. But he said nothing except to agree that the food was amazingly good this morning. Of course, no one said that any other meal was worse than this one, because that would rude. After all, Silya was sitting right here. However, it was clear that Silya had _not_ cooked this. Silya, who had apparently microwaved the cans of soup that first night, had absolutely no talent for cooking whatsoever.

"This is wonderful." Felfe murmured, more to himself than anyone, and he noticed Yuren nod absentmindedly.

Everyone kept eating, and before long all the pancakes were gone. Felfe, though he realized he was being rude, couldn't help pouting just a little. He had wanted the last pancake for himself, and was, unfortunately, still hungry.

"Is there any more?" Lancelot asked, a polite tone making the usually contrite sentence acceptable.

Kain looked around, and, seeing no food left, concluded the logical thing. "It appears not."

"… I _can _make more, it's not that difficult." Yuren muttered, rolling his undead eyes.

All eyes suddenly went to the undead warrior. The warrior in question frowned at all of them, folding his arms and giving them the 'what?' look.

"What?" He asked, irritated. "Is it so ridiculous that I can cook?"

"You don't eat." Lancelot pointed out, confused and yet curiously amazed.

"No, really?" Yuren rolled his eyes – yes, again – and got up from the table. "Well, anyway, who wants what? There's still pancake batter left."

The tone Yuren said those last two sentences with made everyone at the table gape. It was almost… nice. Like he really cared about what everyone wanted to eat. Almost as if he was being kind to them _just for the sake of friendliness_.

And then he watched their expressions, and sneered. "That's right, you _should_ be amazed. Now, I'm just going to put on my _frilly apron_ and go _cook up _some more pancakes, shall I?"

And with that, he stalked out of the room scowling, and slammed the kitchen door behind him.

The room was silent.

Only Guanji had the audacity to speak. "Methinks he be in… denial."

* * *

The rest of breakfast passed in perfect silence. Yuren came back in with his usual icy coldness and a few plates of pancakes. Unfortunately, by now no one felt quite as hungry, so a few pancakes remained untouched, which probably was what caused Yuren to scowl and exit the room without even a 'see you later.'

After that, they all could be found still sitting at the breakfast table, amazingly still, almost like lifelike statues. That was, until Silya gave a small 'oh' and aggroed everyone's interest.

"What is it?" Kain asked, frowning. If she had left the water running again, he'd…

"I just remembered – someone left a package for you yesterday, Felfe." She fished the package out of her inventory and handed it over to Felfe with a confused smile.

Felfe accepted the wrapped box, which was resplendent in pale blue silken wrapping and an azure ribbon, and stared at it in fascination. "Someone? Who was it?"

Silya frowned, nearly pouting, and twirled a lock of hair like she didn't really care at all. But it was clear she did. "Just some blood-elf lady. Not your type at all. Can't imagine why she'd…"

"Alyane." Kain hissed, not amused. "Felfe, hand it over. It could be some trick."

"She wouldn't do that." Felfe said, a slight scolding tone to his voice. "Besides, Lance can heal me, right?"

Kain shot a quick look at Lance, who nodded. And then Kain nodded as well. Though he hated to entrust Felfe's fate to his own arch-enemy. Or just… enemy-on-hold. It was almost the same thing, anyway.

Felfe, smiling a little bit, opened the box and peered inside. And then he gasped.

"What? What is it?" Kain asked worriedly, half-rising out of his seat before Silya pushed him back into it.

Felfe broke into a happy grin, which luckily made everyone give relieved sighs. His eyes shone as he lifted a smaller heart-shaped box out of the package, placing it on the table in front of him.

"Cream puffs." He said wonderingly. "Chocolate-covered cream puffs."

It was clear by the tone of his voice that this time it was not a curse word.

"Why would she send you…" Kain started, but Felfe interrupted, not even listening.

"And look!" He pulled out a red, red rose and set it next to the cream puffs. "How nice of her!"

Kain, by now, was fuming silently, eyes narrowed, looking the other direction and trying not to appear angry. He never thought about getting Felfe cream puffs. And he certainly wouldn't get away with sending him a rose, of all things!

"Hey, what's this?" Felfe took a card out of the bottom of the package. It was one of those cheap, fill-in-the-blank-with-the-person's-name cards. You know, where the whole message on the card is printed and generalized so that you can send it to someone and just fill in their name. Normally this would have been a very unfeeling thing to send someone, but in this case, Felfe's reaction was quite different.

He started reading it aloud, because he always read things aloud.

* * *

Dear Felfe, I'm really sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have kissed you like that, especially not in front of your boyfriend. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize again, and let you know that I have absolutely no intention of pursuing you romantically. I'd really like to just be friends. I hope that's okay with you.

Sincerely, Alyane

* * *

Felfe paused after reading all this, and by now everyone was staring. Kain looked rather satisfied, Guanji and Lance were chuckling, and Silya was smiling again, relieved. Felfe looked puzzled.

"What is she talking about? I don't have a boyfriend."

Kain resisted the urge to sigh, and avoided Silya's sympathetic look.

* * *

That night, Felfe, Guanji, and Lance still hadn't left yet. It appeared that, for some reason, all three were taking this to be some sort of vacation time. Not like Felfe did much anyway, but Lance surely had his share of things to do. Which made it strange that Lance was still there, too.

Regardless, Felfe had insisted on inviting Alyane to dinner in order to thank her for the cream puffs, which, he informed Kain, were very special gifts. Kain made a quick note about that as soon as Felfe left, scribbling on his well-worn notepad. He had enough information on that thing to write a biography.

And so dinner time arrived quickly, and Felfe, dressed as he usually was, proceeded to the dinner table. Guanji was already sitting there, in his usual robes, next to Lancelot, who looked splendid as always. And he had polished his armor again, Felfe noticed. Yuren was sitting in his seat, greasy and no different from how he had looked at breakfast. Kain strode in soon after Felfe sat down. While he hadn't taken any extra measures, he looked as grand as always.

And of course, Silya was wearing her best, presumably because they were having a guest over. But Felfe, somehow, could tell that she was jealous of Alyane. Just a little bit. I mean, any woman would be jealous of how such a graceful lady could be so… so… mysterious. Unnerving. Tempting.

Well, not to Felfe, obviously, but contrary to popular belief there actually were some straight men left in Azeroth. Well, okay, there were probably plenty. And Alyane was certainly appealing to them. Oh, yes.

But enough of that, as Felfe frowned upon such thoughts. And anyhow, the door at the end of the dining room had just banged open. That meant Alyane. And it was Alyane.

Having flung the door open with enough vigor to practically put a dent in the wall, the female warlock made her fine entrance and went to the seat on the other side of Felfe, across from Silya. Even the way she sat down in the chair was remarkable. And poets could have written pages on how she casually flicked a lock of hair over her shoulders and smiled prettily at everyone.

Kain was not amused, to say the least, but he nodded politely. Lancelot echoed him, as did Yuren, and Guanji grinned. Silya pouted but tried to make sure no one noticed. And Felfe paled slightly, remembering the day before, but smiled nonetheless.

"What a delectable dinner." Alyane said, voice syrupy as always. She tilted her head slightly to the right, a cute gesture. Usually this particular gesture caused men to stare quite unnecessarily. She 'happened' to glance around just then in order to assess her dining companions.

Felfe was smiling cutely, as before. Beside him, Guanji looked to be resisting the urge to laugh. Odd, that. But then, he was a troll, so it would make sense for him not to be interested in her. Beside Guanji was Lancelot, who nearly stared but caught himself in time to turn his gaze elsewhere.

Alyane followed the paladin's gaze to Yuren, who was completely uninterested in whatever female blood-elves were up to. At the moment he was looking mourningly at his plate, probably because he had cooked everything but wasn't going to eat any of it. And then next to him was Kain, who looked bored out of his mind already, and next to him was…

Silya? Why was Silya staring so intently like that? In fact, why was Silya staring at all?

Alyane fixed the other blood-elf woman with a curious look, and the blonde elf had the modesty to abruptly look away. How interesting. Was she just jealous, or perhaps… no, it was of no importance. She could make a good apprentice, yes, but not near as good as the one Alyane had her sights fixed on at the moment.

"Hey, mon, we dun have drinks!" Guanji said suddenly, looking only slightly surprised.

Yuren sighed exasperatedly. "Well then, go get some!"

Guanji grinned as if he had wanted to hear that, and quickly went to the kitchen to, presumably, fetch some wine. He reentered the room with a tray of wine glasses filled nearly to their brims. He systematically set down a drink in front of every person's plate in an almost planned way, like he had rehearsed it. Rather odd thing for a troll to do.

Finally, everyone had their drinks, and dinner began. It was absolutely magnificent. There was a huge roast surrounded by deviled eggs, three plates heaped with mashed potatoes, and three likewise full tureens of gravy. And this wasn't the watery, yucky gravy, nor was it the artificial kind. This was real gravy.

Halfway into the meal, and without anyone having spoken, Felfe noticed that Alyane wasn't drinking her wine. Of course, Felfe was, seeing as it was impolite not to. After all, just a little wine wouldn't do anything to him. For some reason, it seemed that he had a pretty high alcohol tolerance. In his opinion, anyway.

"You don't like wine?" Felfe asked her, for the sake of making conversation.

"Oh, no. I'd rather just have some water, thank you." She smiled yet again, but luckily for Felfe it was not her usual, predatory smile. It appeared she was making an effort to be friendly, since this was only her 'you would taste nice with chocolate sauce' smile, as supposed to the more terrifying 'you're mine, whether you like it or not' smile.

Felfe, being a very polite person, offered to get her some water. For some reason, Guanji was frowning in disappointment. Maybe it was something Lancelot said? But what would Lance even be talking about that could make _Guanji _frown?

Nevertheless, Felfe returned with a wine glass full of fresh spring water, and handed it to Alyane, who thanked him profusely.

But then Felfe eyed her abandoned drink, and glanced at his own, half-empty wine glass. It would be such a shame to waste a Merlot like that, especially since it was so expensive – little did Felfe know, this kind of wine wasn't expensive to anyone but him - so he decided to drink it.

After all, an untouched glass of wine was very saddening, and he could definitely have two very small glasses of wine without even feeling tipsy. So he motioned vaguely to Alyane to ask if he could have her wine. She looked a bit surprised that he would be the kind of person to have more than a little of an alcoholic beverage, but figured she wouldn't need it anyway.

So Felfe took her glass, and poured most of her wine into his glass. Satisfied once it was filled to the top, he saved the rest of her wine in the glass and took his own. Lifting it to his lips, he sipped quite a generous amount.

A choking sound came from Guanji's direction, and Felfe, distressed, immediately set down his wine to see what was the matter. He was relieved to see that Guanji had just gotten some wine up his windpipe. Lancelot was heartily slapping the troll on the back, and Guanji was now completely unharmed.

So Felfe once again took a rather large sip from his glass, ignoring the slight coughing from Guanji. He figured it was just the troll getting over his previous choking.

* * *

Later in the dinner – more conversation had started, and it was clear that no one would be leaving soon – Felfe was feeling a bit strange. In fact, he was feeling _quite _strange. Almost like he was a little dizzy, and he found himself drifting off sometimes. Obviously, even he could tell that he needed to take care of himself at this point.

So he turned to Alyane, smiling as best he could. "It was really nice having dinner with you. But I'm getting a bit tired, so I think I'll retire early."

"Oh, I see, I see." Alyane gushed, patting him on the head like one would a little puppy. "Well, don't worry about me. Go ahead."

Silya's mouth opened as if she was going to say something, but she closed it.

Felfe stood up from the table feeling a bit guilty. The others, who hadn't heard him talking to Alyane, looked at him curiously.

"Goin' somewhere, mon?" Guanji asked. He looked a little troubled. Then he gave a sudden laugh. "Oh, musta been da wine, ja?"

Felfe nodded slowly, thinking maybe he had had a little too much. "Yeah, I'm feeling a bit tired, so I'm just gonna go now. Hope you guys don't mind."

Kain looked worried, but he nodded. "Of course."

* * *

Felfe slipped back to his room, clutching his head after he was sure he was out of eyesight. His headache had returned – but it wasn't like before, so maybe this was different – and the pounding was incessant.

He pushed open the paneled door and walked in, closing it behind him. Without a care, he started undressing and prepared to take a shower. Yes, a nice hot shower would probably help him feel better. Maybe all this was just allergies. Yes, allergies.

But weren't they underground? Was there even anything to be allergic to underground? Perhaps some strange type of fungus or… or… something? Well, whatever it was, it would hopefully go away soon.

And so Felfe gratefully stepped into the steaming shower and began to wash his hair. He figured he might as well, since he had the opportunity. It took a while, but he eventually managed to rinse all the shampoo and conditioner from his long hair.

When that was done, he leaned back against the still-cold tile of the shower wall and closed his eyes, sighing as the warm water poured over him. It was very comfortable, and he didn't think he wanted to get out just yet. And he certainly wasn't looking forward to getting his hair completely dry before going to sleep – it took ages.

So it happened that, while Felfe was relaxing in his nice, warm shower, he started to feel a bit better. At first, this was a good thing, as anyone would think, and after a few minutes he felt greatly refreshed. Stretching languorously, he yawned.

'_Much better.' _He concluded sleepily. And then he realized that the yawn indicated his weariness, and he should take it as a sign to get to bed soon. As soon as he was done being nice and warm in the hot water, that is.

And suddenly he felt _quite _nice, and couldn't fathom why. And the nice feeling persisted, leaving him a bit lightheaded. Perhaps the air flow wasn't quite right. Maybe all the steam in the room had filled it up, and he needed some fresh air now. Yes, that was it.

'_Is that your final answer?' _Felfe's mind asked sarcastically.

Felfe blinked, trying to take away the odd feeling to think more clearly. _'Hey, you're back.'_

'_I'm always here, you moron. Unless you've forgotten – I'm your common sense.' _

Felfe smiled. Somehow, even though his thoughts were skewed and a bit fluffy, he figured the situation was okay. _'Okay.'_

'_Okay? Just okay? Listen, there's something –'_

And abruptly the nice feeling intensified and Felfe's vision went a bit white, as if there was suddenly more light in the room. _'H-hey, am I gonna faint? That wouldn't be good, huh…?'_

'_Of course it wouldn't! Get out already!' _His mind snapped, unusually impatient after such a short conversation.

Felfe turned the shower's knob to 'off' and pushed open the door, surprised with how easy the motion was. He had expected to be dizzy, but he felt nothing of the sort. If anything, he felt more graceful than he'd ever been – energized, too.

He stood there for a few seconds before his mind told him to dry off his hair and get his pajamas on (_'for Elune's sake!'_). He followed the orders without much thought, being more occupied with the pleasant feeling which was still confusing him. And it was getting stronger, it seemed.

He sat on the bed, his pajama pants already on, and pulled on the matching button-down shirt. It was a nice, silky material – it was actually his, something his mother had bought him for reaching level twenty. He smiled vaguely as he did the button in the middle.

For some reason, he liked to do the middle button first, then do the buttons below it, and then come back up to the topmost ones. But we shall never know if he was going to do it that exact way this time, since he was interrupted after only buttoning the middle one.

It was… an interesting interruption.

The white grew brighter for a moment, and then the world came back into focus. Felfe blinked, his hands leaving the never-to-be-done second button. The pleasant feeling was so strong now that it almost ached, and he closed his eyes to try to shake himself of it.

And then, suddenly, the thoughts began to invade his head.

_Kain walked up to him in a foreign landscape, smirking as usual. His hands went to Felfe's shoulder as he drew the night-elf into a deep embrace. Their lips met with a jolt of holy fire, eliciting a gasp from Felfe, and then…_

Felfe realized he was laying on the bed, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, heart pounding. Where in the world (and Outland) had that all came from? He didn't think of Kain like that – Kain was his friend! Just a friend!

_Kain shoved him rather violently against a stone wall, looking deep into those bright eyes. And then he kissed Felfe passionately, the sensation blocking out everything else like a blessing of protection. _

Felfe squeaked, jolting himself from the images – whatever they were – and back to reality. The somewhat plain, boring reality. He almost wanted to let himself be sucked into the thoughts, and give in to the feelings that had somehow surfaced in the past few minutes.

But of course, there were no feelings. Nope, no feelings at all. This was just some sort of sickness. Perhaps it was a side effect of the wine. Probably the reason it was so expensive. Yes, that was it. Definitely. No way was he feeling like he… Well, it would be best to try to sleep instead of trying to figure out such a mess.

Unfortunately, the word 'sleep' conjured up another batch of thoughts. But these were much more intimate, and Felfe felt his face burn as he managed to step out of it. This was ridiculous! It was indecent! Why, it was like his mind was being invaded!

A knock came at the door, and Felfe abruptly paled. _'Oh, no, what do I do? I don't want anyone to see me like this!'_

'_Just go answer it and tell them you're not feeling well so they'll go away. Or say you were going to sleep.' _His mind advised, for once with not even a speck of sarcasm.

Felfe rose shakily and walked the short distance to the door, opening it hesitantly. He really hoped it wasn't Alyane – she'd never leave him alone if she found out he wasn't feeling well.

His suspicions weren't confirmed. It wasn't her. It was somehow far worse for the situation.

"H-hey, K-Kain." Felfe stuttered brilliantly, his face turning an even darker red than it had before.

"Felfe." Kain said simply. It was a kind tone, not suggestive in any way, and yet it made Felfe's stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"Uh… I was j-just going to sleep…" Felfe explained, hoping Kain would get the hint. He didn't.

"Oh, I'm sorry about that." The taller elf said sincerely, taking the opportunity to brush past Felfe and into the room. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"S-see… how I was… doing?" Felfe echoed blankly, not moving even to close the door. Everything Kain said seemed to have a meaning beneath it, though his tone was still the same polite one he used all the time.

Kain, seeing Felfe motionless near the door, closed it himself. "Perhaps we could talk for a bit? I won't intrude for long, don't worry."

Felfe opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, and finally managed to sit himself down on the bed. The bed… oh for Elune's sake –

Another barrage of images assaulted his mind, especially clear this time due to Kain standing right there. Felfe cringed, his face still horribly red, and tried to avoid looking at Kain as he came back from the scene. Kain, who was now sitting next to him on the bed.

"Are you all right?" Kain asked worriedly. He didn't need to add that Felfe looked spacy because that was a pretty common thing.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Felfe nodded a little too quickly, trying desperately to tone his blush down and failing.

Kain nodded, not asking anymore questions on the subject. "I wanted to talk to you about dinner. And Alyane."

"W-what about it?" Felfe shifted uneasily, hoping against hope that Kain would leave soon.

"You didn't have to invite her, you know." Kain began, a hesitant sound to his voice. "It was a polite gesture, yes, but you don't have to sacrifice your own comfort to do the polite thing all the time."

"Oh, no, y-you don't understand." Felfe said hurriedly. "I wanted to invite her, and I had a great time at dinner."

Kain examined Felfe's expression for a moment, and then nodded, satisfied. "I see. But then, why did you leave dinner early?"

Oh. So that was what Kain was so worked up about. And now Felfe had to figure out what to say to it. "I… I felt a bit strange."

"Are you ill?" Kain sounded taken-aback, like such a thing could (or should) never happen in his lifetime. And elves, as we all know, have very long lives.

"I d-don't know." Felfe said, feeling just a bit comforted by the fact that there hadn't been any… intrusions… since he started talking to Kain.

Abruptly, Kain reached out a hand towards Felfe, who, startled, leaned back slowly to avoid it. Unfortunately, Kain took it that he was just being stubborn, and Felfe ended up lying completely on his back, with Kain's hand pressed against his forehead.

"I wasn't going to hurt you, you know." He said dryly, looking at Felfe fondly.

_Kain's tongue entered his mouth, tasting of holiness and perhaps some glacial water. Felfe pressed himself against Kain, somehow greatly irritated that there was so much armor in the way. He wrapped his arms around Kain's neck and returned the kiss as best he could –_

Kain, by now, had already removed his hand, and was staring at Felfe with a look of confusion. "Are you okay?"

Felfe, dazed, said nothing, which Kain took to mean something bad. The blood-elf frowned suddenly, and leaned forward until his face filled Felfe's vision. Felfe, normally, would have moved. Unfortunately, the visions were having a ball with all this real-life action, and he couldn't manage to snap out of them.

After a moment of too-closeness, Kain leaned back into a sitting position, looking puzzled. "Felfe… did you drink… a rage potion?"

He asked it carefully, like someone would ask if you had been abusing magic recently.

Felfe, obviously, didn't see that question coming. "What?"

"That would be a 'yes,' then…" Kain muttered, looking concerned.

The night-elf recovered enough to sit up shakily and scramble for an answer. "B-but those are f-for warriors."

"Yes, and no." Kain sighed, ready to explain. "Other classes can also take them, and they act as a sort of…" He paused uncertainly.

"Like what?" Felfe asked, determinedly looking at the wall. He wasn't going to go into those visions again, not if he had any control over it.

Kain folded his arms, which was something he didn't do very much. He was obviously uneasy with the prospect of this particular explanation. "Well… it's usually used… for recreational purposes."

Felfe waited for a moment, and Kain didn't say anymore. Just as he was about to ask, though, his friend decided to give him the information straight.

"All right, all right." Kain said hastily. "It's a… a… potion that's used for helping people feel… er… good."

Felfe was confused for a moment, and then things started to make sense. He hadn't known why Kain was talking about rage potions in the first place, but now that he thought about it, he had felt pretty weird since dinner – since the second glass of wine.

"Oh. So you're saying that that wine does the same thing?"

"The wine?" Kain asked, blinking. Then he realized what Felfe was thinking. "No, no, not at all. Someone – I don't know _which _someone – must have slipped a rage potion into your wine. And it's most likely causing you to feel strange."

"But you said it was to feel good, and I don't feel that good." Felfe pointed out sullenly. But then he nodded guiltily. "Okay, I do feel pretty good, too."

Silence reigned for a moment, in which Kain was wondering why Felfe was so shameless about his feelings, and then Felfe had a sudden thought.

"So… you said these were for feeling good? Why would people need it to feel good?" He asked, tilting his head to one side cutely. So far, he was managing to avoid the intrusions. Thank Elune!

"Well, it's for feeling _especially _good, if you understand correctly." Kain said.

Felfe was now confused again, unfortunately for Kain. "Is it… I mean, are there… um… side effects?"

"Side effects?" Kain raised an eyebrow, not being aware of any particular side effects. After all, he had a pretty good idea of what rage potions were capable of, having had much experience with them in his younger – for an elf – years.

"L-like…" Felfe mentally cursed as he stumbled. He had almost been getting over that. "Like… visions?"

"Visions? What kind of visions?" Kain's interest was piqued, now. He hadn't ever had any visions when taking rage potions…

Felfe blushed darkly, mumbling. "W-well, they were… kinda… weird. I don't really w-want to say."

Kain immediately realized just what kind of visions they were, and backed off. "Oh, it's fine. I understand completely."

"You do?" Felfe asked. And then he looked down and realized that he had only had one button of his shirt done-up for this whole talk. "O-oh, um…"

He hurriedly buttoned his shirt the rest of the way – bottom buttons first, then the top ones – and pretended he hadn't forgotten. "S-so how long d-does this take to wear off?"

Kain shifted uneasily before replying. "Well, probably around a few hours."

Felfe gaped. "B-but how am I supposed to sleep!?"

Kain blinked, incredulous, before assuming his usual calm façade. "Sleeping isn't exactly what it's for…"

"Huh?" And then Felfe's mind started to tell him exactly what the rage potion was trying to do to him. In very sarcastic tones, of course, and with varying levels of bluntness.

Kain watched as Felfe's face turned white, then pink, then red, then darker red, until the night-elf buried his face in his hands out of embarrassment.

"Are you okay?" He asked, more out of necessity than because he wanted to know. He already was aware, by now, that Felfe was _not _okay.

In fact, Felfe was worse than he had been before Kain had entered the room. Especially since he had just had another such vision, this one being extremely intense. At the moment, the 'good' feeling was so strong that he almost wanted to be touched in some way – hugged, kissed – it didn't matter as long as that feeling was sated. And it was currently roaring at him to just do something, anything, to get that attention.

"K-Kain?" He asked before he could even wonder what he was doing.

"Yes?" Kain looked as he had been about to get up, like he had been going to leave. But that didn't matter to Felfe now. He just needed that feeling to leave.

"C-can you…" Felfe removed his hands from his face and looked up at the other elf. "C-can you k-kiss me? J-just quickly?"

Kain's shocked expression was something Felfe had never witnessed before. And then a whole sea of emotions flooded over his friend's face – surprise, desire, guilt, sadness, anger, elation – before finally settling on a shaky façade of slight surprise. "Felfe… if I… if I did that now, I would be breaking my promise to you. Is that really what you want?"

At this point, Felfe's thoughts were so scrambled that they were nearly undecipherable.

* * *

Kain stood there, the shock still not fading away. Felfe sat on the bed looking desperate and downright panicked.

'_I have to go, now, before something bad happens.' _Kain thought, cursing the fact that he was going to have to actually turn down Felfe with a chance like this.

"Kain… I…" Felfe spoke slowly, rising from the bed in a strangely graceful motion that didn't reveal his inner turmoil.

"Felfe, no. I'm not going to." Kain countered firmly, folding his arms in a stubborn way. He only did this in times when he was nervous, and this was certainly qualifying.

And then Felfe cupped Kain's face in both hands and kissed him on the lips.

* * *

Felfe knew, as he continued to kiss a very stunned Kain, that what he was doing what not right somehow. But he needed the feeling to go away! He needed the ache to subside – he couldn't take another two hours of this.

But it wasn't going away. In fact, each second that their lips touched caused the 'good' to multiply rapidly, and he almost wanted to…

* * *

Kain pushed Felfe roughly off him, his iron will the only reason he was able to stop himself from completely letting it all go. He couldn't betray Felfe. A mind-altering potion was _not _going to make him, even if it did look like Felfe wanted it.

Felfe looked longingly up at him, and Kain had the feeling that the night-elf might try to catch him off guard again. Not good. Kain had to think for a moment, frantically trying to grasp some sort of idea.

Well, he had an idea, but it was only temporary. And it wasn't really that great an idea…

Quickly, he drew out the handcuffs from his inventory and more-or-less calmly secured Felfe to the backboard with them. He then turned away, realizing that looking at Felfe now would probably undermine his plans. Must not look, must not look.

As he thought about possible solutions to the problem, he could hear Felfe struggling to get himself free, obviously not only irritated but also panicking because of the rage potion's effects.

"That's it…" Kain said slowly, his eyes widening slightly. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

And he took out one of his greater mana potions, and turned to Felfe.

Unfortunately, that was a bad move, since he was now presented with a wonderful view of Felfe handcuffed to his bed. Or Felfe's bed, it didn't really matter at the moment. And Felfe was looking at him with a combination of anger and desperation.

Kain was vaguely aware of his heart skipping a beat before he firmly closed his eyes. "Felfe, drink this. It's effects will cause you to sleep through the rest of the rage potion, and… and… you'll be all right in the morning."

'In the morning' was apparently not the right phrase to use, as he could hear Felfe struggling with renewed fervor. The poor night-elf's thoughts were probably going haywire over that.

Kain realized that he would have to open his eyes to give the mana potion to Felfe, so he did so, and kept them centered on the bedding instead of Felfe. He inched closer nervously, closing the space between them. He place the hand not holding the potion under Felfe's chin, and moved even closer until he was sure Felfe's mouth was close enough to…

To distract Felfe, surely.

"Open." Kain commanded.

Felfe opened his mouth, eyes closed in something akin to bliss. Kain repressed a sigh as he poured the mana potion down his friend's throat. Felfe, obviously not expecting that, coughed a few times, eyes opening in surprise.

"There, you're fine now." Kain said gently, straightening up so he was no longer invading Felfe's space.

Felfe's eyes looked unfocused, and then he slumped back onto the bed, his breaths becoming even and slow.

Kain waited a minute until he was sure it was the potion and not some trick of Felfe's that had caused this, and then he took off the handcuffs with a handy key he had picked up since the first handcuff incident. He remembered the look the blacksmith gave him when he asked for one, and winced.

"Pleasant dreams, Felfe." He whispered, opening the door to walk back to his own room.

* * *

**_How was it? Good? Bad? Ugly?_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviewers: **I am at a loss for what will happen with Yuren and Lance, so I really can't say at the moment. Hehe. And as for Kain and Felfe… we'll just have to see, won't we?

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, etc.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Felfe stirred, opening his eyes sleepily. He had a small headache, but it didn't concern him in his half-asleep state. He shifted slightly on the bed, and noticed that he was lying on the covers instead of under them. Now, why was that? Had he been so tired the night before that he hadn't even remembered to crawl under the covers?

The world came a bit more into focus, and he sat up, his hair obscuring parts of his vision. He pushed some of it aside, his fingers brushing through it and hitting a few tangles. Why was his hair tangled? Hadn't he brushed it before bed, like usual?

These two things were hinting to him that last night had been different somehow, but he still wasn't quite convinced. Although, the fact that he woke up with a headache should have given him something to go on.

He hopped off the bed, walking over to the dresser to seize the complimentary hairbrush. Slowly, he eased it through his long hair, wincing when it came in contact with small tangles. He didn't usually have tangles in his hair.

While he was brushing his hair out, he glanced over at the nearby clock. It was six-thirty in the morning.

What in the name of Elune was going on!? He never woke up naturally before eight o' clock, and he certainly had never been able to get up out of bed this early – it was positively mind-boggling!

'_This can't be right… I wonder what's going on.' _Felfe thought worriedly, putting down the hairbrush and fretting a bit. _'What happened last night, anyway?'_

'_You don't have a great memory, do you?' _His mind noted wearily.

'_You know what happened?' _Felfe asked eagerly.

'_Of course I do, and so do you. Here, I'll give you a keyword to jumpstart the memories. Hmmm… how about… _wine_.' _

That's right. There had been a wonderful dinner with Alyane and everyone, and he had had some wine. And then… he'd drank Alyane's wine, too, since she didn't want it. Yes, that was it. After that, though… what was it? He started to feel nauseous or something.

Yes, yes, and then he went back to his rooms, took a shower, and… then what?

'_You're so dense.' _His common sense growled irritably. _'Here, how about '_rage potion?_''_

And then the memories started to flow again. He had started having those strange visions, and then Kain showed up, and wouldn't leave. And then Kain told him that it was a rage potion, and somebody had slipped him one by way of the wine. And then… and then things had gotten out of hand, and he had…

'_Oh, no… I didn't really ask him to… to kiss me, did I? I'd never do that. I just want to be friends, I couldn't…' _

'_Face it, 'cause it did happen, and you're gonna have to live with it.' _Common Sense sounded surprisingly kind this time, for some reason. _'Anyway, Kain knows it was just the potion talking. Of course.' _A hint of sarcasm.

But it troubled Felfe, and it also worried him that he couldn't remember what had happened after that. When he tried to reach for recollections beyond that sentence, all he received was black, fuzzy images that flitted away before he could grab ahold of them. What did Kain say? Had Kain actually kissed him after that, and… what would that have done? Was their whole friendship ruined now?

'_Stop stressing, you idiot. Just go talk to him and ask him what happened.' _Common Sense rolled its eyes, and gave him a mental shove towards the door.

Felfe hesitated, not wanting to interrupt Kain's sleep. After all, no one could be awake at six in the morning. But somehow he thought Kain wouldn't mind much, and he really needed to know about last night. So he quickly opened the door, and walked out into the hallway.

He went through a couple of rooms and another long hallway before he realized that he was still in his pajamas, and he wasn't even wearing socks. How ridiculous. If he had any sense, he would have turned back and gotten dressed, but he decided to bravely continue on. After all, Kain wouldn't care if he was in pajamas. Kain was probably in pajamas, too.

And so Felfe went on, through several hallways and a few more sitting rooms, before reaching The Hallway. The Hallway was the largest hall, and it lead to a single room – Kain's. The end of The Hallway housed large doors that seemed intimidating in their beauty – blood-elf work at its finest.

Felfe hesitated once again, stalling for time as he stood before those doors. This was really stupid. He should go back right now and get back to sleep. It was a ridiculous time to be up. Kain wouldn't want to talk right now. He was probably asleep. And you know what they say about sleeping blood-elves.

He sighed, mustering his courage, and pushed open one of the doors, slipping quietly into the room. The room wasn't dark. There was a candle burning on an end table beside the large bed, and Kain was laying there, turning the page of a novel. When Felfe came in unannounced, and shut the door, he closed the book without even placing his bookmark in the right place.

"Felfe! Is something wrong?" He asked, startled, sitting up straighter.

Felfe, suddenly shy, fumbled for an explanation, and faltered. "W-well I guess I s-shouldn't disturb you. It's pretty early, so…"

"What is it?" Kain put down the book on the side table, and slipped out of the bed. He was wearing a dark red robe, moderately fluffy and a very complementing color for him. It also happened to be slightly open in the front, which caused Felfe's mind to whistle, and Felfe to blush uneasily.

"U-um, it's okay, it's really stupid." Felfe brushed his concern off, figuring that he probably shouldn't even bother now. "You don't have to get up."

"I would not want to sit while you stand." Kain said good-naturedly. "That would be incredibly rude of me."

"W-well I'll sit down, then." Felfe said quickly, nodding as he spoke. He looked around for a chair, and found none.

Kain timed his pause accordingly, and then got back into his bed. "You can sit on the bed if you want – there's more than enough room."

Felfe blushed at the prospect, but told himself he had no reason. After all, friends usually sat on their friends' beds, right? Just to talk? It was a casual thing, wasn't it?

So he awkwardly sat down on the other side of the bed from Kain, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, though he admonished it greatly. And then Kain looked at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to speak first. Or not.

"I take it this is about last night?" He asked gently. Too gently. So gently it made Felfe a little nervous.

"Y-yeah. I was w-wondering…" Felfe tried to look casual and apathetic, and failed miserably.

Kain nodded encouragingly.

"I… I can't remember what happened after I, um, uh…" Felfe blushed considerably, his already pink-ish skin going red. "After I asked you… to… you know …" He made some vague gestures to finish the sentence.

Kain repressed a sigh, running his fingers through his unbound hair. "I said no, due to our… agreement."

"Oh, good, that's…" Felfe sighed, relieved. And yet he felt a tinge of disappointment that he was, at the moment, trying to squash.

"And after that," Kain continued, knowing that he owed it to Felfe to give him the full story. "You decided to take matters into your own hands." His tone was light, but his eyes went elsewhere, as if he was embarrassed.

"I did?" Felfe tilted his head to one side, frowning slightly. "What did I do?"

Kain again managed to time his pause perfectly, and then got straight to the point. "You kissed me."

Felfe gaped. That was… impossible! Had he actually been the one to break the agreement? Had he actually kissed Kain? And he had no memory of it? Well that sucked…

"It's all right." Kain said quietly. "You were not yourself."

"B-but it was horrible of me to do that… I broke my promise." Felfe shook his head, ashamed. "I'm really sorry."

"No harm done." Kain said graciously, not being able to keep a small smile from his face.

Felfe, a little surprised, said nothing for a moment. But then he couldn't keep himself from asking. "Is that all that happened…?"

Kain laughed, really laughed, for once. Felfe, smiling awkwardly, lapsed into nervous giggles. And then Kain stopped, but a smirk remained on his face, as if he was thinking something Felfe wouldn't be able to understand. Or possibly just thinking that Felfe never understood _anything_.

Interestingly enough, the door chose this moment to open, allowing another person to enter the room.

Yuren walked in, furious and for a moment not noticing Felfe. "Have you seen Lancelot anywhere?" He demanded.

"Why, no, I haven't." Kain raised an eyebrow. "Looking for him?"

Yuren scowled. "Of course no-"

And then he spotted Felfe sitting on Kain's bed in adorable blue pajamas, and he couldn't restrain his undead eyes from rolling. "What is this, a sleepover? And I wasn't invited?"

Felfe blushed slightly at the prospect of a sleepover, but secretly thought that it was a very good idea.. Maybe he would get around to having one someday… if anyone wanted to, that is… but no, it probably wouldn't happen.

Kain smirked, and decided to pursue the more interesting subject. "And why are you looking for Lancelot so intently?"

Yuren scowled again, paling (if that was even possible) and looking flustered. "I was only… it was his idea… I don't know!"

And at that moment, the door opened rather quickly, shoving Yuren into the wall and causing him to take minor damage. It just so happened to be Lancelot, all dressed already, and looking concerned as well as annoyed.

"Have you seen-" He started to ask, and then paused, spotting Felfe. "Good morning, Felfe."

Felfe, unfortunately, was too busy trying to look around Lance's frame to check if Yuren was all right, and didn't answer. Kain, curious, also turned his gaze to follow Felfe's.

Lance at last noticed them both staring not _at_ him, but _behind_ him, and spun around to see Yuren extracting himself from between the door and the wall with great difficulty, due to the fact that Lance was in the way.

Lance moved automatically, his mouth working silently for a moment before he finally put together a plausible sentence. "Were you hiding out here all this time?"

"Of course not!" Yuren hissed, obviously trying to keep his voice down, and failing. "And where were _you_, anyway?"

"I was at the flightmaster, of course." Lancelot countered, indignant.

"You idiot! I told you, it's the _General Goods_ that…" And then Yuren trailed off, realizing that he might have said too much. "We'll talk elsewhere."

And the two awkwardly exited the room, trading quiet words (not whispers, never whispers) and attempting to ignore Kain and Felfe's altogether too-interested gazes. Finally, the door shut, and the two elves were once again alone.

There was silence for a moment, in which Felfe wondered if Yuren and Lance were finally on good terms, and Kain wondered about similar topics, and… some dissimilar topics as well.

Felfe's smile faded slowly, and he had to struggle to reapply it. It was nice to see the two of them on semi-good terms, but it also directed his attention back to his own friendship. And yes, he still mentally referred to it as friendship. "… So, I guess… I should get going, huh? I mean, to get back to Southshore."

Kain looked surprised at the sudden idea, and his expression was almost sad as he returned Felfe's gaze but didn't let their eyes meet. "I suppose you're right. After all, you can't…"

He trailed off, there, and shifted slightly, looking a bit shocked. Felfe, even though he was extremely oblivious to most things, could see that his friend hadn't meant to let the last part slip.

And Felfe, for some reason, felt even heavier at this. Possibly because Kain seemed to be radiating despair at the moment, and he couldn't stand seeing him like that.

"L-listen, Kain, if you…"

And then the door swung open, causing Kain to hastily mask his half-serious, half-'I'm not brooding' expression just in time for Guanji to walk in, completely unashamed of his unannounced entrance. "Hey, mon."

Kain actually sighed at the interruption, but Felfe smiled anyway, hoping Guanji might be able to help cheer Kain up. Of course, the fact that he thought Guanji was capable of that just showed how much Felfe understood about blood-elves. "Hi, Guanji."

Guanji examined the scene, with both the two elves in pajamas and occupying Kain's bed. Okay, so Felfe was just sitting on it, but still. "Ja, I heard dat you two be havin' some sorta ting here, and I thott…"

He grinned, then, scratching his head sheepishly. "Ah, but dat can't be true den, 'cause joo'd be happier lookin', ya?"

Kain stiffened somewhat, eyes narrowing, but Felfe didn't get the hint, and instead figured Guanji was talking about, of course, a sleepover. I mean, what else could he be talking about?

"Oh, no, we didn't. Although I would have liked to – it seems like such a fun thing to do." Felfe beamed, not noticing both Kain and Guanji's stunned looks.

Kain, after a moment, realized the issue here, and clarified. "He's talking about… sleepovers."

"Ah, right, ja." Guanji nodded, his mohawk bobbing. Felfe had unfortunately ruined his joke. "So… what be goin on?"

"Oh, I was just..." Felfe paused, looking guilty. "I was just saying how I should be going back to Southshore."

Guanji's face fell considerably, due to not one but many realizations. One, Felfe wouldn't be near Kain all the time. Two, no more wonderful cooking by Yuren. Three, he'd have to get back to questing, and four, Lancelot wouldn't be around near as often. "Dat be a good point, mon… but ja, wish I hadn't thott bout it…"

"That's right, huh? You have to go, too." Felfe muttered, frowning. "Sorry, I didn't mean to remind you like that-"

"Ah, sokay, mon. Besides, I be needin' to get back ta all dat stuff." He grinned his usual grin, not looking too heavily affected by the bad news. "Well den, uh… I be goin' now, see ya."

"I'll see you around, Guanji!" Felfe said happily, waving as Guanji did the same. He watched the troll's mohawk bobbing until it was out of sight around the closing door. And then he sighed. Kain would have sighed, too, but he was too busy trying not to.

"I will see you again, of course." Kain said lightly, with a touch of dryness. He rose from the bed as Felfe hopped off it, and made his way to where his friend was standing nervously, about to leave.

"Of course." Felfe said quickly, nodding. He looked up at Kain, who was standing in front of him, and felt as if he was waiting for something. They both were. He shifted awkwardly, wondering what he was supposed to do.

It seemed to Felfe like this was the point where he was going to be kissed goodbye, but that wasn't right at all. They were friends, just friends, and it wasn't going to happen. Although for some reason he had the nagging impulse to make it happen, and he had to tell himself that he'd regret it.

So what was he going to do? If they both stood there any longer, he'd just be prolonging his stay, and causing himself more guilt. Maybe… maybe something was needed here. Something not quite overly-friendly, but fitting for a goodbye, especially when he didn't know how long it would be until he saw Kain again.

"I'll see you around, then." Felfe said slowly, stepping closer – into the danger zone – and slipping his arms around Kain in a very friendly, completely platonic hug.

"I'm always around." Kain's expression softened, unseen, and he wrapped his arms around Felfe and pulled him closer. The embrace was pleasantly warm, and softer than countless dreams where there was cold armor between them. Felfe felt inexplicably strange during the hug, which went on longer than expected, almost as if he liked it but at the same time felt scared. Scared of Kain? Yes. And scared of himself. He was too close to putting himself out there, all his inner working revealed, to be examined and picked apart. It was so close, and he didn't want that.

At last, the warmth melted away and both drew back – Felfe first, which caused Kain to release his grip as well.

Felfe took out his hearthstone, and held it in both hands, watching as it started to glow with a green light. It lit up his hands, as if he was some sort of druid, and cast a sickly light onto his already pale skin. The casting was almost done. He would be home soon.

"Wait!" Kain said suddenly, tugging at Felfe's arm almost desperately. Felfe, startled, stopped the stone's magic and looked up. Up, into Kain's bright green eyes, more vivid than the direct light of the stone a moment before. Blazing like a wrath spell hitting its target. Felfe, being the target at this point, was stunned, captivated.

Kain's face was too close, close enough that Felfe wasn't going to lick his dry lips for fear of appearing suggestive. And then Kain spoke, in that wonderful voice that Felfe could recognize anywhere.

"Aren't you forgetting your equipment?" Kain asked, smirking.

* * *

Wrenn ran through the forest, faster than he had ever run before. His foot touched the ground, lifted, to be replaced by his other foot. The fluid motion wasn't what he was thinking about, though. His thoughts ran haywire, accompanying the frenzied sprint of his body.

It wasn't about running laps anymore. He didn't run like this for recreation. This was serious, and he was falling behind with every step. _They_ were catching up. _They _were calling to him, loudly, as their feet pounded the earth only ten feet behind him. _They _would not let him go if they caught him.

He shivered, pumping his legs with renewed vigilance, though his lungs seemed fit to burst at any moment. The adrenaline shot through his veins, giving him just enough strength to keep running. But even so, he was nearly done for. And they were going to get him.

Wrenn gave a last effort to make it through to the next clearing, and slowed, breathing with ragged gasps. He fell to his knees, exhausted. He could feel the blood going through his veins, his lungs reaching for air, the sharp breaths he was drawing in. His stomach felt empty and strained, and his legs had turned to morning glory dew, rendering him helpless.

There would be no more running for him. There was no escape from the inevitable.

The footsteps drew closer as he continued to struggle for breath. He felt his hand go unconsciously to his chest, where his heart beat frantically like a bug caught in a spider's web. He didn't know what he would do after this. Maybe there wouldn't be an 'after.'

A hand shook him by the shoulder, and he flinched. When he didn't move, another hand joined the first, and laid him down on the grass. He twitched, but stayed still. Maybe if _they_ thought he was dead, _they'd_ let him go. But no, _they_ probably liked that kind of stuff.

"Is he breathing?" One voice asked, almost worried.

"Yeah, I think so." Said another. "But I think he pushed his limits."

"Why did he do that?" Yet another asked. "We weren't going to hurt him."

"Much." The first added wryly.

"Maybe he needs mouth-to-mouth." A new voice suggested excitedly.

The others chuckled, their intertwined voices beginning to argue more, probably about what they were going to do with him. Oh, the things they could do to him!

Wrenn would have sobbed if he had enough strength to do so, but he was so weak that he couldn't even raise a hand. His eyes, half-closed, couldn't make out any faces. But he knew who they were – well, what they were. And he knew exactly what they wanted of him.

"No…" He groaned, trying in vain to shift at least a little, to do _something_.

The voices quieted, and a hand went to his forehead. "Well, he's not sick."

"But he looks really bad… shouldn't we take him back to camp?"

"I dunno, after all that time we were chasing him?"

"Well, it _is _our fault, right?"

"Yeah, but it was so much _work_."

"Oh, get over it!"

"No, I'm _not _going to get over it! My hair got all tangled and everything!"

This brought about a new wave of arguments and voices exclaiming loudly about various circumstances. On the one side they were saying they should get help, but the other side was firmly decided that he was fine and just playing dead. But of course, only hunters could do that.

"Wrenn!" A voice called quietly, as if from a far distance away. "Wrenn!"

It was a woman's voice, light and beautiful, calling him. Calling him… where? Maybe he really _was _dying, and it had come to take him away. Away… how he liked the way that word sounded to his parched throat, his stinging eyes, his tired body. He would gladly take her hand, and she would lead him into the Light…

"Wrenn!" The voice continued, sounding louder. That was good, it meant she was getting closer. And then she would help him to rest at last.

"Wrenn!" Now it was almost here, almost to where she would be ready to take him away. Away.

And then silence fell for a few moments, and Wrenn wondered if the goddess had lost her way. Wasn't she going to take him? Wasn't she? Or maybe she was deciding if he deserved it or not. Perhaps she would leave him here to die, alone, alienated from the Light. Oh, no!

"Just what do you think you're doing!?" The goddess screeched. Wrenn's ears pulsed in pain, and he winced. Blood-elf ears weren't great for that. But why was she shouting? Had he done something wrong? Should he have kept running? Not that he could have, really.

A myriad of voices rose up, apparently talking back to the goddess, who continued to yell at them. Ah, so it was _them_ who were being judged. The voices, sheepish and guilty, tried to defend themselves from her wrath. But Wrenn smiled wearily, knowing that the Light always won.

And then a soft hand alighted on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. It was the goddess's hand, he knew at once. He stirred, opening his eyes and hoping to get a glimpse of her. Though his vision was blurred, he could make out the pale, porcelain skin and the golden hair, now tied in a high tail. Her blue-green eyes looked into his gently, and… was her hand lifting? That wasn't supposed to happen – she was supposed to draw his soul out through her fingertips and…

"Wrenn, you okay?" The voice was clearer now, and it was almost recognizable. Almost… familiar.

"Uhh…" He groaned, trying to form words. But his mouth wouldn't work properly.

A few voices rose worriedly in the background, but he heard a soft hiss and they quieted. He blinked, focusing and unfocusing his eyes to get them to work again, if only to get a better picture of her.

A few moments later, his vision cleared enough for him to see, and he immediately recognized the woman sitting beside him. He wanted to say her name, but he stumbled, and realized that he actually didn't know what it was. So he tried again. "It's… you."

She smiled a little at that, and took out a haunch of meat and some fresh spring water. "Here. It'll help you recover faster."

And it did. Within seconds he began feeling better, and halfway through the spring water he glanced at his surroundings. And then choked on the water.

_They _were still there. Five blood-elf paladins, all of which were male. They were the ones he had seen yesterday – the ones who were making daisy chains and painting their nails. And they had started chasing him that morning when the rest of the paladins were doing laps.

He shuddered. "D-don't…"

It was all he could manage to get out, but nevertheless his partner understood. "I won't let them get you, don't worry." She said it like a threat, directed at the males.

She narrowed her eyes, and they all ran from the clearing, squealing about the unfairness.

"T-thanks…" Wrenn said, trying to get his voice to catch up with the rest of him. "I really thought I… was gone."

She laughed at that, and helped him to his feet. "Nah, you just need to take better care of yourself. Silly."

He smiled, feeling grateful that he could make facial expressions once again. "So… do you think Bachi will let me have a rest?"

"No chance. He's hard as a rock, that one." The yet unnamed paladin woman said dryly, taking his wrist to lead him back to camp.

Wrenn's eyebrows rose at first, but then he realized that she wasn't holding his _hand_, per se, only his wrist, and calmed. She noticed the sequence with interest.

"You really _are_ all about that upholding the Light stuff, huh?" She asked, but made it sound more like a comment.

He nodded, feeling relieved that at least one person understood him.

* * *

They returned to camp a few minutes later, late for the next activity. It seemed that all of the other paladins were sparring at the moment. One on one – partner against partner. It was going to be difficult for Wrenn, but he would not ask Bachi for a break. If he did that, he would be compromising his partner's honor and allowing her to be attacked by some hooligan with nothing good in his mind. And Wrenn simply wouldn't allow that.

Bachi raised an eyebrow at Wrenn's late entrance, especially with his partner leading him by the arm. The commander apparently assumed the worst (or the best) and figured that the two had been goofing off in the woods. Which would have, logically, explained Wrenn's weariness, but not his partner's completely un-disheveled appearance.

After orders from Bachi to start a match, Wrenn pitched the duel flag (with much help) and stood at one end of 'their' patch of grass to begin the fight. He tested the practice sword by swinging it in a few simple motions, and was satisfied. Although, he really wasn't comfortable with attacking his own companion, not to mention a woman.

But he steeled himself anyway, hoping he could get away with letting her win.

He didn't have to.

She moved in a blur of speed, her attacks calculated and quick. Her practice sword came at him so fast he barely had time to block, and then she withdrew it and lunged again. He parried, hopping backwards to buy time, but she saw his weakness and leapt towards him again, sword poised to sting.

He blocked, and dodged when her blade went for his left shoulder. He was already sweating. She wasn't. In fact, she didn't even look winded as she thrust the wooden sword at him, and then dove to slash at his legs.

He jumped backwards again, and then ran a few paces away to outdistance her – or, at least, her sword. It did him little good, though, because she followed after him, and he was forced to turn and block the incoming blade. Their swords clashed, making a 'clack' sound before sliding off and meeting once more.

She lunged again, trying to catch him off guard, and he put up a block. But then she completely changed the angle of the blade, and swooped down to deliver a blow to his side, which he narrowly avoided by doing an awkward half-dodge half-kneeling motion. She hopped back, and he stood again, blade in a defensive motion, panting.

She smiled coldly, and he shivered. She seemed completely different in battle – focused, perfect, with the speed of a striking cobra.

"Can't you do better than that?" She taunted, twirling the practice sword in one hand.

He gaped for a moment, wondering if she had dual-personalities, before raising his sword to stop hers from cutting off his head – except that it wouldn't have, because the sword was wooden… he thought.

Quickly, before he could wonder at his own idiocy, he counterattacked, blade aiming at her stomach. She brushed off his attack easily and swiped at his chest, but he managed once again to dodge. She circled him, and he shifted his blade to a 'safe' position where he would be able to block or attack depending on the circumstances.

An urge hit him suddenly, and he followed it, raising his blade to slash at her. She brought hers up to parry it, but half-way through the swing he ducked and swung at her ankles.

His blade met only air, and he looked up to see her a pace away. She was fast.

"A feint. Good." She said, her tones clipped and unfeeling. "Let's see how you handle this, then."

What did she think she was, his teacher?

He didn't have time to ponder that, because the next moment she was before him, blade in a strategic position that he had never faced before. What attack was this?

Her sword suddenly lashed out, in a barrage of attacks, lunging at his neck, his chest, his shoulder – he blocked all of them, reflexes taking over from thought. She kept on, now going for his side and then stomach and then neck again.

He parried the last swing and launched his own series of attacks, but she blocked each one and smiled, like she was looking at a child. His sword lunged at her shoulder, but she ducked and the blade found nothing.

Wrenn was breathing heavily, now, but she still looked as fresh as she had at the beginning of the battle.

"You're tired?" She asked, eyes narrowing threateningly. "Well then, shall I end this?"

She came at him again, but this time her attacks were even faster than before. He blocked, shifted, blocked, ducked, but the next attack hit him square in the side, and he flinched from the strength of the blow. Wood shouldn't have been able to hurt that much.

She took advantage of his faltering and dealt him a swift blow to the head with the flat of her blade. He felt the impact, saw spots appear on his vision, and vaguely noted that he hadn't before thought that practice swords could knock someone out. Apparently, he was wrong.

As he stumbled, his view blurring steadily, he saw her standing there, golden hair and shining eyes, and realized something. She was a goddess, yes – a goddess of death.

* * *

It was midday when Felfe returned to Southshore, and thankfully the weather wasn't as hot as it had been a few days before. In fact, it was only pleasantly warm. There were quite a few people milling about in the town, repairing their armor, buying odds and ends, and turning in quests.

Which brought Felfe back to the point that he, too, should have been turning in quests. _'I wonder if I have any I can do now?'_

He took out a long scroll filled with hastily written notes on what people in which towns wanted what done. It was only filled halfway, so far, and Felfe was disappointed because he actually hadn't done any quests since arriving at Southshore for the first time.

'_Well, then, I'll do one right now. There has to be one that isn't too hard.' _He thought positively, bravely (or stupidly) forgetting the many times he had nearly perished during other such quests.

Ah, there it was! Some person called Farren wanted him to go down the coast and hunt murlocs. Ten Tidehunters and ten Oracles. Personally, Felfe had always thought it was odd to give an exact number. I mean, what happened if he only managed to kill nine? No deal? Or maybe eleven? Technically, he shouldn't be able to finish the quest if he killed eleven, because eleven wasn't ten.

Of course, Felfe managed to shrug off his thoughts on the matter and dig out his map. Luckily, he already had most of the map pieces for Hillsbrad, so it made finding things a whole lot easier. These particular murlocs, by what his notes read, were probably near the docks. North, maybe.

He headed out towards the docks, looking himself over to make sure he had everything. Equipment, check. Daggers, check. Food, check. It sounded pretty good. And he had his two rings, both of which he was extremely fond of – he told himself that he liked them equally, but he couldn't help fingering the Heart Ring with a certain smile every so often.

The docks ended abruptly, giving way to the vast ocean. He would have liked to stand there longer, watching the waves lap against the shore, but he knew there was work to be done. Looking left, and then right, he finally spotted a nearby camp of murlocs.

'_Now or never!' _He sighed, trying to muster his courage. Surely, killing some murlocs wouldn't be that difficult. Although, there had been that incident, years and years ago…

He shook his head, effectively shooing away the memories, and hopped down from the wooden docks and onto the green grass. He slipped into stealth, sneaking along until he had a better view of the camp.

There were three of them, and a couple more not far off. He'd have to try and draw one out without getting all of them. Hmmmm… he hadn't strategized for quite a long time, and he was never good at it to begin with. Perhaps he should sap one? No, that didn't work on murlocs, did it? Or maybe he could gouge one and run, and then… no, that didn't sound good either.

He finally settled on simply throwing a knife at one, and did so. The effect was immediate. The hit murloc came running towards him, gurgling in wrath, and dragging two of its buddies. Felfe paled to the point of bloodlessness, looking frantically left and right for an escape of some kind.

He tried desperately to stealth before forgetting that he couldn't do it with enemies that close. And they were very close. He didn't have time to run – completely forgetting sprint – and so was forced to fight.

He attempted to backstab the first murloc – an Oracle – several times as it cast some arcane spell. Why wasn't it working? Could it be that murlocs didn't have backs? Or was he not in the right position to backstab? But how could that be – he was right in front of it!

Frustrated as well as panicked, he attempted to eviscerate the murloc and succeeded in doing a small amount of damage to it. But really, it wasn't enough. And the three murlocs, altogether, were doing so much damage to him that he was almost about to pass out. He would have to try and run, but they were pounding him.

'_Use vanish, you idiot!' _His mind screeched.

'_That's right!' _Felfe gasped, realizing that it was a semi-plausible way out. _'I'll just…'_

He reached into a pouch at his waist, searching for the elusive flash powder. But it wasn't there. He hadn't bought any. In fact, now was a great time to remember that he always forgot to buy flash powder.

"Cupcakes!" He yelped, his health being quickly eaten away by a blast of spell damage added to the fists of the two Tidehunters.

He shut his eyes tightly, tears forming at their edges as his body took yet more punishment. Sprint was forgotten, as always, and his mind had fled at the prospect of Felfe _not _making it out alive.

'_I never wanted it to end like this… I wasn't cut out for this, this job of using your body to get money, like it's some kind of tool. I wish I could forget the pain, the suffering I've gone through, but it's still there…' _Felfe flinched under the countless blows, lost in his own thoughts.

He really wasn't good enough for all this. He wasn't good enough for anything, except maybe herbalism, and anyone could do that. There was nothing that made him special, nothing that let him stand out and say 'I'm great because I can do this!'

And so, looking back on his life, alone in the darkness of an empty mind, he saw nothing he liked. Everywhere he looked, in the arranged memories, all was pain. Just pain, and his struggle to do something right for once. But now was different, because it seemed he wasn't going to have another chance.

He'd messed up this time, and now he'd never be able to make it up to himself. But for some reason, he wasn't sad that he was going to _die_ – he was sad because he couldn't find anything important. Was there really nothing important to him in the world?

A face drifted before him, in the icy coldness of near-death, and he smiled, though he couldn't feel the expression on his face.

'_That's right.' _He thought blankly, a tear rolling down his face. _'He's important to me.'_

But Felfe had no more time to feel, to think, or even to send out a last goodbye. The blackness had taken over, and he couldn't see any longer.

* * *

Kain had been watching Felfe from the dock since the night-elf had stealthed. He saw the throwing knife hit one of the murlocs in the group, and all three creatures had attacked Felfe. He saw Felfe's pathetic attempts to take down the enemy. He couldn't fathom why Felfe hadn't sprinted away, but figured maybe he was trying to take one down before he ran.

But Felfe didn't take one down. If anything, he seemed to be giving up. He wasn't even attacking. His slender form was slightly bent over, like he was drawing in on himself, and the murlocs just kept attacking. What was he doing!?

Kain realized that the situation wasn't going to get any better, and rushed in at once, leaping from the dock and delivering a few well-executed attacks to defeat all three murlocs in the span of a few seconds.

He turned to Felfe, who was still standing there, head down, silvery hair obscuring his face. And he wasn't reacting. Kain reached out a hand, and gently shook his friend's shoulder. No reaction. Not even a twitch. What was going on?

Kain hesitated, and then drew Felfe towards him, trying to get a look at Felfe's eyes. They were closed tightly, as if blocking out the sunlight. But they weren't opening.

"Felfe." Kain said softly. No reaction.

And he noticed, now, that the beginnings of tears had formed in the night-elf's eyes, but still hung there, forgotten and unmoving. Suddenly, Felfe smiled slightly, and Kain gave a sigh of relief.

But then one of the half-formed tears rolled down the side of his face, leaving a wet trail behind it.

"Felfe!" Kain exclaimed, more concerned than before. "Felfe!"

* * *

Felfe opened his eyes suddenly at the liquid coldness hitting his face, blinking away the stinging sensation. He sat up, raising an arm to wipe off the wetness, and paused. "Kain?"

Kain, indeed, was right there in front of him, practically in his face. And he looked relieved. Felfe figured this was because of some ridiculous reason like he thought Felfe wasn't going to make it.

"I almost thought…" Kain trailed off, giving Felfe a meaningful look to complete the sentence.

Felfe looked down at the grass sheepishly. He had probably looked pretty well dead, so he wasn't surprised that Kain was that worried. Which reminded him that he owed the man an apology, as well as a thank-you.

"What did you think you were doing?" Kain asked, not moving farther away. He was still right there, uncomfortably close. Felfe, normally, would have made some move to push him away, but he was in Kain's debt at the moment, and his friend, clearly, had been fraught with worry for his sake.

Actually, Felfe had been pretty worried for his _own_ sake, too, but for some reason he felt much better now.

And then he happened to take in Kain's words, and he frowned. "Well, I had this quest…"

"No, no…" Kain cut him off impatiently, eyes flashing. "Why didn't you run? You were obviously outnumbered!"

"I… I couldn't run, they were all on me!" Felfe defended himself helplessly.

"You could have sprinted." Kain said hollowly, his voice betraying him. "And saved yourself the trouble."

Felfe looked back up at Kain, and saw the raw emotion in his face. It was stunning, actually, how much his friend cared about him. And he could see it now, so clearly that he would have liked to take a snapshot to remember the moment with.

He wondered just when he was going to get around to telling Kain to get off him. Well, 'off' wasn't quite the right word. I mean, he wasn't _on_ him, per se, but it was close. If Felfe had chosen to sit up, Kain would have been forced to move away. That is, if Kain had any respect for his personal space.

Nevertheless, Felfe vaguely realized, after moments of silence, that Kain had said something. And he had mentioned sprint. Wait… sprint?

"I…" Felfe gaped, horrified. "I didn't remember!"

Kain sighed laboriously, and made as if to lift his hand to his face, but stopped. His gaze turned back to Felfe for a moment, and… was he smirking now? "You know… I should really start charging you for all the heart attacks you've given me."

Though his tone was more than half-serious, Felfe could tell that this was, in fact, a joke. So he laughed quietly, even though he really didn't think the idea of having to pay Kain was funny. He didn't have very much money, to be truthful.

"I don't have very much money, though." Felfe admitted guiltily.

Kain seemed to have anticipated that answer, though, and leaned even closer, close enough that the smell of lavender invaded Felfe's senses. "I'm sure we could work out other forms of… payment."

Felfe was pretty sure, now, that he should tell Kain to back off. I mean, for once he actually understood what Kain was hinting at (as supposed to not even knowing that there _was_ a hint). But for some reason, he wanted to have the last laugh this time.

So, trying not to look uncomfortable at their closeness, he smiled innocently and asked, "Like what?"

Kain froze. "Did you…" And then he shook his head, as if tossing thoughts aside. "Did you just ask me that?"

Felfe couldn't suppress a few giggles at the look on his friend's face, which unfortunately blew his innocent cover completely.

"You were joking." Kain stated, stunned for a moment. And then his smirk came back, full force. "Well, I can suggest a few methods of payment…"

Felfe stopped giggling.

"For instance…" Kain began, raising one eyebrow elegantly. "Training."

"Training?" Felfe asked, not really seeing the connection. Maybe Kain was actually serious now.

"So that I won't have to save you quite as often." The blood-elf explained simply.

Felfe thought about the idea, and it began to make sense. He nodded, slowly, and expressed his agreement. "Okay."

Kain grinned, and at last leaned back and let Felfe have his personal space again. "Well then, it's settled. I'll train you."

"You?" Felfe gaped. "But you're a paladin!"

"I know a lot about other classes." Kain said smoothly. "And I happen to be very skilled with a sword."

"Oh, okay." Felfe said, not catching the not-so-subtle innuendo. "So you can teach me how to be skilled with a sword, too? And other rogue stuff?"

Kain nodded, smirking like a protection warrior who had just finished a particularly nasty quest line. "Of course. When shall we start?"

"I don't know… any time is good, I guess." Felfe shrugged, finally sitting up and picking grass blades out of his hair. His chest felt odd, like there was extra layer of skin, and he frowned. Without thinking, he undid his vest and started to unbutton the white linen shirt underneath it.

Kain pointedly looked away, raising an eyebrow that Felfe couldn't see.

"You bandaged me?" Felfe asked, surprised. He started to button up the shirt again, starting at the middle button as always. But alas, the rest of the buttons would once again be forgotten.

Kain, apparently, ignored the question, instead watching as Felfe finished with the first button. Then, as the night-elf went on to the bottom one, he suddenly seized the offending hand.

Felfe looked back at Kain, embarrassed, wondering just why Kain wouldn't want him to button up the rest of his shirt. His mind, meanwhile, not-so-politely informed him that there were many reasons, none of which he would 'like.' Depending on one's definition of like, that is.

"What?" Felfe asked, hoping his mind was wrong about things, like usual. Of course, what he didn't know was that his mind was actually always _right_.

Kain paused, as if he hadn't thought about what to say. When he spoke, it was halting and unprepared. "You… Your injuries would do best… if… if you let the air get to them." He nodded semi-convincingly, and added, "It will help."

Felfe's mind snorted, but Felfe thought it made perfect sense. "Right, of course."

Kain smiled, and Felfe looked down at the single done button, and shifted uneasily. He wasn't used to walking around like that, but hopefully it would be okay. I mean, the injury really needed to heal fast, so he could train. Oh, right, the training!

"So, do you think we can train tomorrow?" He asked suddenly, just a little bit excited.

Kain nodded. "What time?"

Felfe thought for a moment before replying, "Lunch."

"Lunch?" Kain said. "Before, during, or after?"

Felfe laughed despite himself. "How about… during?"

"I'm not sure how that will work, but fine." Kain conceded. "Shall I bring the food?"

"As long as your sister doesn't cook it." Felfe muttered, but then turned bright red. That was rude!

Kain laughed quite loudly, knowing full well the extent of Silya's bad cooking. She was, after all, his sister. "Don't worry, I'll have Yuren make something nice."

Felfe smiled, standing awkwardly and brushing himself off. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Kain nodded, placing a warm hand on Felfe's shoulder and steering him towards Southshore – he had been facing the opposite direction. "Yes."

And they walked back to the town until Kain could be sure Felfe wouldn't get into anymore trouble, and parted ways. Though Felfe did miss the comforting heat of that hand on his shoulder.

* * *

**_Well... that took longer than I expected. How was it?_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Reviewers: **My, my, everyone sounds so eloquent! Hehe, yes, I figured it might have a little LancexYuren as (one of the) background romance(s).

**Disclaimer: **It's safe to say that I _do not _own Warcraft. But I do own my 'creations.' Meaning, Felfe, Kain, Guanji, Lance, Yuren, Temarr, Alyane, Silya, etc.

I don't care about Maren, though – you can take her.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

****

Kain stretched languidly, yawning. The artificial sun shone through the artificial window, and he felt pleasantly comfortable. He had a nagging feeling that he was supposed to get out of bed, but dismissed it in favor of snuggling into his pillow. He liked his sleep, and he also liked lazing in his bed after his sleep, because it was so very warm and cozy.

But something was still telling him to get out of bed, and he couldn't remember what it was. He ran a quick search on his memory, putting in a few possible sources like 'Felfe', 'Guild', and 'Silya'. The Felfe search shoved him towards a few details that it thought would interest him, and he leafed through them carefully, not wanting to miss anything important.

Ah, yes. Yesterday, all that business with saving Felfe again after he aggroed not one, not two, but three murlocs. He couldn't fathom why his friend hadn't just run away, but then… Oh, yes, Felfe had forgotten sprint. Sometimes he wondered what kind of childhood Felfe had, and if it had any effect on how the night-elf was so… so…

Cute? No, wrong thought chain! He wasn't going to get distracted, he was close now. Close to the answer. _'Okay, focus.'_

So, after he saved Felfe they had had an interesting talk. Felfe, if he was remembering correctly, had practically flirted with him (although he probably hadn't known exactly what he was doing). And then, unfortunately, their conversation led to the topic of training, which Kain had encouraged Felfe to seek in order to stop near-dying as much.

Felfe had agreed, and Kain had offered to train him. So they had set up a time for the first lesson, sometime around…

Around now. Kain swore and leaped out of the bed, dressing in extreme haste.

The door opened, and Yuren walked in, completely uninterested in the sight before him. Kain, in his hurry, was unfortunately just a bit confused. His plate pants were on, but he had somehow gotten his belt around his shoulder and across his chest, and his chest piece, which he put on over that, wasn't yet done up. And his hair tie had come out after a few seconds.

Actually, Yuren had changed his mind. He decided to be mildly interested, as well as appropriately sarcastic. "Now, just what are you doing?"

Kain, stuck trying to fit his bracers onto his legs, scowled importantly. "I'm late."

Yuren tsked, and walked over to point out several facts that probably would have helped Kain if he was at all listening. "Your belt is supposed to go around your waist. And those bracers are for your arms."

Kain paused, since he had heard a bit of the last part, and said, "What?"

"You moron!" Yuren rolled his eyes. "Just look at yourself!"

Kain did so, and frowned. It appeared that Yuren had been right about whatever it what that he had said. "I'm late." He repeated.

Yuren huffed and strode straight up to Kain, removed the chest piece, and placed the belt in its proper position. Kain narrowed his eyes at Yuren, obviously pretty angry. After all, one's second-in-command has no authority to dress you, especially if you don't ask for it.

If anyone is interested, Lancelot came up to the closed doors at exactly this moment, and paused, hearing the voices from inside.

"I can do it myself." Kain huffed, trying to stop Yuren from forcefully dressing him.

"Oh, _right_! That doesn't go there!" Yuren said, pointing out the bracer on Kain's leg.

"Well, where does it go, then!?" Kain asked desperately. He was running out of time.

"You're hopeless." Yuren sighed.

"I am not. I'm just distracted." Kain mumbled.

"I suppose this is your first time, poor thing." Yuren said sympathetically. Well, it would have been sympathetic if Yuren hadn't put enough lemon with it to drown a squirrel. Wait, what?

"Don't say things like that." Kain didn't even blush, because the joke was very off-the-mark and Yuren knew it. Obviously, he had been there when the whole Kael thing went on.

"Fussy as usual." Yuren said offhandedly, to no one in particular. "Now here, this is where you put it."

Kain, unfortunately, let out a kind of yelp at this, since Yuren (moving forward to shove the bracer violently onto the arm) had stepped on his unarmored foot. Probably intentionally.

Lancelot, still standing outside the door, had by now gotten a very clear picture of things, and stormed into the room looking furious. "What's going on-"

Yuren, fitting the other bracer to Kain's left arm, glanced at the Lance in surprise. Kain pushed away his second-in-command to sit back on the bed, examining his throbbing foot. It was indeed very painful.

Lancelot deadpanned. "Ah…"

Yuren folded his arms, thought for a moment about a possible retort, and then decided to say something completely unheard of. "I could use some help."

Lancelot, stunned, and stammered, "W-with what?"

Yuren, not anticipating that his joke wouldn't catch on, scowled. "With _him_, of course."

Kain slid back off the bed, and shot a look of pure venom at Yuren. "I can dress myself." He insisted, attempting to shove a glove onto his left foot.

Lancelot suddenly laughed, realizing that this whole thing was about his rival's incompetency, and the atmosphere brightened considerably. But not enough. After all, Kain was running out of time!

"He's hopeless today." Yuren muttered to Lance as they forcefully dressed Kain. "It's because he told Felfe he'd train him today, and he forgot to get up early for it."

Kain looked questioningly at Yuren, but he didn't struggle to get out of their grips. Resistance was futile.

Yuren shrugged, putting on Kain's boots for him. "I know everything."

Lancelot snickered.

Yuren froze dramatically, and paused just long enough for maximum effect. "What was that?" He asked, his voice unusually cold.

Lance shifted uneasily. "Well… nothing."

"You don't think I know everything, is that right?" Yuren asked dangerously. "Well, I do."

Kain shared a confused look with Lance, a kind of 'what is he going on about?' look followed up with a 'no idea'.

"Ask me something." Yuren said, fitting Kain's rings onto his hand. "Anything."

Lance flushed slightly, knowing that there were a few things he'd like to know, but couldn't bear to ask in front of his rival. Er, rival-on-hold. "What's Silya making for breakfast?"

Yuren paused for the full effect, and answered concisely. "She is not making breakfast, because, though she told us she would, she was called up by a friend yesterday and decided to go on a shopping spree in Silvermoon. I also happen to know that this 'friend' has connections with Alyane, and I suspect there is some sort of plot involved."

Kain gasped uncharacteristically. "What!?"

"I said," Yuren began, but stopped. He was too busy watching the rest of Kain's equipment almost magically fit into their rightful places. Apparently, the shock was enough to get Kain back on his feet, so to speak.

Kain was now fully armored and ready to go, which was good, because he had decided to take matters into his own hands.

"It's all true." Yuren muttered, watching Kain stalk out of the room. Leaving Lancelot and Yuren alone.

"Wow." Lance said. "What are you, some sort of spy?"

Yuren whipped out an important looking card that had a picture of him, and some important looking writing in the worldwide-accepted Orcish script.

Lance's eyebrows rose considerably. "You are!"

Yuren smirked back at him, before bursting into undead laughter. "You… are…"

But he was laughing too hard for Lance to make out the words, so Lance asked, "What?"

"You… are… such… an idiot!" Yuren choked out between malicious laughing.

Lance, entirely affronted, frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Because…" Yuren said with mirth, "This is my riding license."

"Ah." Lancelot said. "I see."

Meanwhile, Kain was out in Silvermoon attempting to locate his sister, forgetting all about his lunch appointment with Felfe. But, of course, Yuren hadn't.

"Now, I'm going to fix some lunch. Want to help?" He eyed Lancelot threateningly, daring him to refuse.

"Sure." Lance said amiably, and he followed Yuren to the kitchen.

* * *

A few minutes later, lunch was underway, and Lance was effectively ruining everything he touched. Apparently, he couldn't cook at all, and had no idea what to do. Yuren, not at all helpful, just rolled his eyes at his hapless companion.

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd known what a _disaster_ you are in the kitchen…" Yuren said, frying up some bacon. He was attempting to make some BLT sandwiches, or, as they were commonly referred to, 'Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato'.

Lance, at the moment chopping the tomatoes so blindly that he ended up nearly dicing them, looked away for a moment to frown at Yuren. "AH!"

Well, he hadn't actually meant to say 'AH!' but it just sort of came out. This was mainly because, while his eyes were averted, the knife had somehow came down and made a nasty-looking slice on one of his fingers. Which was painful. Hence the shout.

Yuren gave him an odd look for a moment, and then watched him turn around, drop the knife, and stare blankly at the blood welling from the slight wound. And then he realized that Lancelot had hurt himself, and transformed in an instant.

"No! What are you doing!? Don't touch it!" He shrieked. "Your other hand is covered in tomato juice, you idiot!"

Well, okay, so it wasn't that much of a transformation…

"How am I not supposed to touch it!?" Lancelot bellowed, pointing at his other, now-bleeding hand. "It's bleeding!"

Yuren, now, was sifting through the cupboards. "Oh, be a _man_ for once…"

Lance stiffened, scowled, and was about to throw in a heated remark about Yuren being less of a man than he, but stopped when the undead gave an 'aha.'

The 'aha' itself wasn't actually that interesting, but the box of band-aids Yuren pulled out of the drawer were. Lance reached for the small box with his uninjured hand, but Yuren slapped it away and scowled at him yet again.

"Don't you know anything? You need to wash it!" Yuren said, and then proceeded to help.

Lance wasn't sure if he should object, but Yuren was holding his wounded hand carefully and running the cold water over it and he found that it wasn't that bad. Oddly enough, he didn't mind that his friend's fingers were a bit on the skeletal side – okay, a lot. But it didn't really make a difference.

Wait, friend? Oh, yes, they were technically friends now, after yesterday when they had attempted to meet and discuss the matter. But then that backfired and they had to meet later instead, but the result was the same. Yuren had taken out a dictionary, defined the word 'friend' and made some points that didn't seem to make much sense. And Lance had just nodded carefully at all the right times. So it was a deal, and they had decided to try this 'friend' thing.

Personally, Lance thought it was working pretty well, since now Yuren was gently drying off his human hands with the dish towel and looking worried. Although, Lance didn't think Yuren was actually worried, because that would constitute some sort of caring emotion, and Yuren was obviously incapable of that.

Yuren then got out a rather plain looking band-aid and held Lance's hand cautiously, holding it so he could get a better look and decide how to place the thing. After a moment he nodded, and peeled off the sticky backing of the band-aid. Then he pressed it softly to Lance's finger, and secured the rest of it. He let go of Lance's hands at last.

Lance was feeling very happy about all this, and he suspected it was because he was never loved as a child, so he was very vulnerable to all this loving friendship stuff. Not that Yuren was that friendly, or that… uh… anyhow…

"Want me to kiss it better, too?" Yuren asked, his tone worlds different from what it usually sounded like. It almost sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure why he was saying it.

Lance, though, figured it was a joke – Yuren tended to make sarcastic jokes often – and nodded absently.

Yuren took his hand and placed a brief kiss on the top of the band-aid.

Silence.

More silence.

Even more silence.

Yet more silence.

Lancelot coughed, trying to use his other hand – the one not currently in Yuren's hand – to obscure what felt like an embarrassed blush on his face. He certainly hadn't blushed in years. After all, he was a _paladin_. And a darn good one, too.

Yuren, still holding his hand, looked up as Lance coughed, and raised an eyebrow. "You better not be sick."

Lance shook his head quickly, and waited for Yuren to let go of his hand. When Yuren didn't, he shifted awkwardly, trying to make it clear that his hand was just fine now. "So…"

"So…" Yuren echoed him blandly. "Lunch isn't going to make itself, is it?"

Lance nodded, feeling relieved as Yuren's hand left his, and turned back to the tomatoes. Or, more aptly named, the stretch of bloody, tomato-y battlefield on the counter. Even he could tell that this wasn't going to do it. "I don't think these tomatoes are…"

"No, get out." Yuren sighed, and shoved Lance away from the destruction he had caused. "Get out the picnic basket and the cover – they're in the closet over there."

After all, surely Lance could handle something like that. So Yuren felt a bit safer as he turned off the stovetop, set aside the plate of bacon, and began cleaning up the mess on the counter.

"Is this it?" Lance asked, coming out of the closet and holding up a wicker basket with a red-checked gingham-print cloth covering it.

"Yes to the basket, no to the cloth." Yuren replied, throwing the bloody mess into the nearby trash can. Even the trash cans were gilded here. Pfft.

"This is the wrong cloth?" Lance frowned, taking a better look at it. "But it was with the basket."

"Get the pink one with all the white lace around it." Yuren ordered as he got out new tomatoes and expertly cut them. He went slightly faster than usual with the knife, since they were a bit behind on time now, but it wouldn't matter. He was pretty sure he didn't have any blood to lose.

"Is this it?" Lance frowned, holding up a very pink and very lacy cloth that looked about the right size to fit over the picnic basket.

Yuren glanced away from cutting the tomatoes for a moment to see what Lance had gotten this time. "AH!"

But of course, the 'AH!' didn't have anything to do with the rather sappy pink shade of the cloth. Yuren had, in fact, cut himself. He stared, horrified, at the slit in his bony finger, and watched some dark red blood seep out of it.

"So I _do _have blood after all." He muttered in a somewhat morbid tone.

Lance gaped. "This is my fault."

"No, don't be ridiculous." Yuren said, rolling his eyes. "It's fine."

And he raised his hand to his mouth, about to suck some of the blood out to stop the flow.

"Wait, don't!" Lance seized Yuren's arm to stop him from sucking the blood.

"What?" Yuren scowled, disliking being manhandled in that sort of fashion.

"It's just…" Lance cringed. "I don't like seeing people… er… drinking blood."

"Some nasty, blood-sucking demon killed your parents, right?" Yuren said sarcastically, rolling his undead eyes.

Lance was oddly silent for a moment, and he stared blankly at Yuren while still holding his arm tightly. Yuren suddenly understood.

"Really?" He asked quietly.

Lance nodded stiffly, the color draining away from his face.

Yuren suddenly felt terrible for bringing the whole thing up, and thought that he ought to do something to help. "That's… that's… terrible."

Lance gave no reaction except to tighten his grip on the bony arm, which caused Yuren to wince, as it was, in fact, _his _arm. He looked back at Lance's face to see a very complicated expression – sadness, anger, guilt, all rolled into one.

"Hey…" Yuren said awkwardly. "I didn't mean…"

Lance looked for a moment like he was going to run off and cry somewhere, but steeled himself and managed to look only half like he was going to run off and cry somewhere.

Yuren, having had absolutely no experience in this area – he was calling it 'comforting' for lack of a better name – had no idea what to do. What was comforting to humans? Generally, he had heard it was a combination of chocolate, long baths, Mexican food, beer, and tissues, depending on what gender the human happened to be.

Yuren was pretty darn sure Lancelot was male, so he figured maybe the beer was the best bet. The only problem was that there _was no beer_. After all, Kain had no fondness for the stuff – he preferred a light red wine.

Which brought Yuren to the point that he didn't know what to comfort Lancelot with. Surely there had to be something that would work. Candy? No, that was for the little human children. Maybe men enjoyed long baths too? Well, if that was the case, Yuren wasn't going to help with that one. Chocolate? Well, Silya had lately consumed all the chocolate reserves (one of the reasons she went out to Silvermoon), so all they had left was some chocolate sauce.

_NO_. Definitely not.

So Yuren consulted his memory database, searching desperately for something that he had seen humans do when other humans were crying, or close to it. He vaguely recalled a dramatic scene that had been broadcasted to the magical orb receiving magically recorded image spells, or MORMRIS, (he was only watching because he had to talk to Kain and Kain was watching it) where some woman was in tears and her (he was assuming, here) boyfriend spontaneously drew her into a rather passionate kiss.

Personally, Yuren figured that the woman should have choked because of that, as that's what would normally happen, but the scene continued with the kiss perfectly smooth and devoid of choking.

But of course, all that wouldn't help at all. He was not going to. No chance.

Except… NO! Most certainly not!

Although, coupled with the chocolate sauce, it could potentially be quite an effective plan…

"Oh, whatever." Yuren said suddenly, wrenching his arm from Lance's grasp. Lance watched curiously as Yuren bickered with himself for a moment.

And then Yuren reached up and grabbed Lance's collar, yanking the paladin's face down to his, and kissing him on the lips. After a moment, he withdrew, trying to ignore the outrageous impulse to do it again.

"There, now go take a long bath, or something." Yuren commanded. "If I stand here any longer my finger's going to fall off."

"I don't know why I like you…" Lancelot muttered, amazed at what had just… oh. Actually, he hadn't realized the significance of the… the… well, it was just… oh, forget it!

Yuren froze, in the process of washing his hand off. "You _like _me?"

Lance paled abruptly, and ran off to take a long bath. Right after he finished crying somewhere, that is.

* * *

Yuren sighed, artfully putting together the many BLT sandwiches and wrapping them accordingly. He stuffed half of them in the spiffy-looking cooler device in the kitchen, and put the rest into the picnic basket. He paused, thought, and then added a couple of refreshing spring water bottles to it.

Satisfied, he covered the basket with the very pink, very lacy cloth, and considered tying a lovely pink ribbon on the handle. No, that might be a bit much.

It might seem at this point that Yuren was very, very gay, but this could not be farther from the truth. The reason he had selected this particular pink cloth to go over the picnic basket was a much more devious reason than that. He simply wanted to get some revenge on Kain – mostly for the teasing lately about Lancelot – and thought that there could be no better way.

After all, Kain was undoubtedly going to be running late when he came to pick up the food, since he was out looking for Silya and the trip to Southshore always took forever. So Yuren figured his guildmaster wouldn't notice the extremely lacy cloth covering the basket until, say, Hillsbrad Fields. And by that time, there could be no turning back.

Yes, it was a very impressive plan, and he had thought maybe to improve it with the pink ribbon, but unfortunately he had none, so that was out of the question.

He wondered for a moment if Lancelot might have any, but shook his head ruefully. Paladins. They were never good for anything, were they? Of course, if Kain heard him thinking that, he'd be out of a job. Or close to it, anyway. Kain never really kicked anyone, except maybe that one time when a blood-elf woman had made it quite clear why she was in the guild, and threw a couple of nasty comments about Kael'thas into the picture.

That had been one ugly day.

His mind drifted back to the old days with a feeling of nostalgia. Well, they weren't really that long ago (okay, so maybe they were), and it felt like all of it had happened yesterday. He'd noticed everything coming together before Kain had, he imagined. He was probably correct, since Kain seemed pretty oblivious to Felfe's feelings for him.

Yes, he'd been there when Kain had started seeing Kael, and that whole big fuss of the public media and the news and all that stuff having a ball over it. And he'd been there in what he liked to remember as the golden days – mostly because Kael had really golden hair and it was all shiny and kind of blinding if you looked at it in the sunlight and –

Okay, okay. Enough of the past. And all that 'shiny' nonsense really wasn't it, either. He just, like usual, would rather dwell on pleasanter things. Like, I dunno, maybe _the present_.

He belatedly realized that he had been staring at the counter for a good few minutes, and sighed again. And then he sighed _again _because he was completely blanking out and he didn't have anything to do and it was kind of boring just cooking every day even though he didn't like it that much and the only other thing he ever did was walk around and main-tank the raids and a lot of fun that was and…

He didn't even notice Lancelot peeking out from the doorway to spy on him. Really, he didn't.

* * *

Kain was trying very hard to be inconspicuous and failing. His fame, his face, and his armor clearly gave him away to everyone around, and he only hoped that he could find Silya in time to inform her of the plot. And he also hoped that if Alyane was around, she wouldn't find out that he was here and send her minions after him, or something.

Not that he had any information that she had minions – just one, who was apparently a friend of his sister's. A friend, Yuren had said. A friend. What kind of friend plots with another, more popular friend to… well… whatever it was they were plotting to do. I mean, who does that?

'_Women.' _Kain answered himself automatically, and paused to think about it for a moment. Now that he had automatically thought of it, it did kind of make sense. So he nodded to himself, and resumed walking.

Surely, Silya would be easy to find. It was just that she looked like all the other female blood-elves running around the place. If only he had some way of telling her apart, like some sort of signal…

Aha! A lead!

'_If I can guess which outfit she's wearing, I'll be able to search more efficiently.' _He concluded, determination in his eyes. _'Focus.'_

He recalled all the details of the situation. Yuren had said that she was in Silvermoon to go shopping. Okay, there's one thing. And he also said she was with a friend. So if she was shopping with a friend, what kind of outfit would she want to wear? He'd have to take into consideration that this was Silvermoon, the blood-elf haven and center of neo-fashion, that she was in. And also he'd have to take into account her current wardrobe…

This would be tricky. And if he made the wrong assumption, he might pass her by and think she was just another woman. This was very, very important, and it was crucial that he think long and hard.

He strode into the inn and sat down at the gilded table, not at all surprised by the elegance and blue tone of the room. He came here a lot, just like the old days when – no! He was a man on a mission!

'_Focus.' _He reminded himself. _'She'll be wearing something stylish, of course. Something in fashion at the moment, but nothing too revealing or bright. She won't want to bring too much attention to herself. And it has to be something that she can slip on and off easily, since she's shopping for clothes…'_

A dangerous assumption, but one he could rightfully make. Silya never went shopping without trying on the newest fashions. So he had quite a bit of information, now. He just had to consider her possessions.

His mind hurriedly put together outfits based on what she had brought in her inventory to wear as well as her older clothes that were in her room. He tossed out one idea (pants were too hot for today, and certainly not in that shade of green) and went onto another. No, no deal.

He thought harder, and finally something clicked, and he rapidly organized another outfit. The flower-print dress that came to about the knees and ruffled slightly, but clung nicely and had a sort of flowiness to it. That, paired with the soft white half-jacket that tied in the front, with the bows on each short, puffy sleeve.

And she would probably be wearing her stylish white high-heels with the light pink straps. Yes.

… But he didn't need to know what shoes she was wearing, so he wondered why he had even bothered. Ah well. He knew what she looked like, now, so it was time to resume searching.

And search he did. He walked from the entrance to Sunfury Spire, to the headquarters of the Blood Knights, back towards the Wayfarer's Inn, through a few more buildings, up some more streets, through the dark alleyway-

There she was. Silya was standing in a dark alleyway, talking to some blood-elf woman who was insanely beautiful. With perfect pale skin like the Light itself had crafted it from cream and seafoam, hair as black as the depths of the ocean and twice as fluid, and eyes that shone like bright green stars that would dot an alien sky in Outland. Her figure was without flaw, and she possessed a subtle grace that made every move she made look effortless though she must have practiced them many times.

It was clearly Alyane, and he was not happy to see her. Especially since she was standing very close to his sister, and he didn't like the threatening way in which she was making motions while she talked, as if she was some kind of gang leader – albeit, a remarkably tastefully dressed gang leader.

He narrowed his eyes, thinking immediately to rush in and separate the two before asking any questions. But maybe, just maybe, he should hang around and see what they were talking about. It couldn't hurt, unless she suddenly decided to slug Silya, at which point everything would be chaotic anyway and he wouldn't be able to help without risking his life (and manliness, which he was trying to preserve lately).

So he quickly went the long way around in order to remain unseen, and sneaked into a building close by. Silently he came to the window on the second floor, peering downward in a way that was probably very obvious to anyone who wasn't standing beneath the window. But that was fine, he only cared about watching the two of them.

Luckily, his blood-elf ears picked up what they said, since they weren't bothering to be quiet about it. After all, they were (as far as they could see) the only ones in the alley. So he could hear clearly, and just caught the conversation as it lead into something… odd.

"Why not?" Silya asked scathingly, her green eyes flashing. Though Kain couldn't see quite that well in the semidarkness, but he was assuming.

"You don't have what it takes." Alyane said flippantly, gesturing boredly with one hand. Kain told himself not to look at her too much, since she seemed unnaturally good at seduction. But he needn't have bothered, since Alyane wasn't in seduction mode at the moment. Not with his sister, pfft.

"And who are you to say that?" Silya growled – an odd sound coming from her – and stepped a bit closer to Alyane. Which brought her very, very close.

"I'm me." Alyane pointed out. "Alyane, master of seduction, tamer of men, admired by all with eyes."

"I can do it. I know I can." Silya said very, very seriously. She reached out and took Alyane's face in a manicured hand, staring determinedly into those eyes.

Alyane's eyes narrowed at the implications, but she nodded. "Show me, then."

Silya paused for a moment, in conflict, and then brought her lips to Alyane's. After a moment, she deepened the kiss, her tongue sliding into the other's mouth delicately. Alyane, impressively, did not change expression throughout the kiss, and had a sort of fixed, calculating look on.

Kain was _not _pleased. He was currently wondering if he ought to jump out the window, but refused to do such a ridiculous thing. Again, that is. Though his nerves were frayed, though, he couldn't help but think that Silya had acted first – Silya, his own sister! But alas, it wasn't his right to intervene now. But as soon as they parted ways, he would give her a firm talking to!

Silya at last withdrew, panting slightly, her eyes shining. She had given it her best shot, put everything she had into that kiss. All the natural, blood-elf charms and the unnatural, 'what I've picked up elsewhere' charms, too.

Alyane ran a finger over her lips thoughtfully, but then she frowned. "It was a good try, but I'm afraid you're just not good enough."

Silya gaped, and then hurriedly shut her mouth, but her shocked expression remained. And then she paled as her eyes started watering, and that empty feeling filled her, and she knew she couldn't remain long.

She said nothing as she fled the alleyway, away from Alyane. She couldn't think straight, so she didn't know where she was going, but she didn't care. Anywhere was fine, as long as it was away from Silvermoon.

* * *

Kain caught Alyane by the arm as she turned to leave the alleyway. Alyane had the skill to only look mildly surprised, instead of gaping like most people would have if 'Lord Kain' had suddenly materialized beside them.

"What was that?" He asked coldly, eyes narrowed more than usual. He was, indeed, very angry. Angry that his sister had _kissed_ such a trickster, and more angry because the trickster had rejected her. No one rejected his sister like that and got away with it.

"You were watching." Alyane said, more a statement than a question.

Kain didn't bother nodding, but his eyes hardened. She nodded absently.

"Your sister wanted me to teach her." She explained shamelessly, twirling a lock of midnight-black hair over a slim, pale finger.

"Nonsense…" Kain muttered, stricken. Surely, Silya would never want to become like this woman, this devious vixen!

"Oh, yes, I'm telling the truth." Alyane smiled in that heart-stoppingly cruel way. Although, it was hard to tell if she only meant to be smiling innocently, since she had so much make-up on that her facial expressions were sometimes misunderstood.

"You refused her." Kain prompted coldly. "Why?"

"She wasn't good enough." Alyane provided simply, folding her arms. "I allowed her to show me her skills and she doesn't have it."

"Have what?" Kain asked, thinking to himself that he should get going and find Silya before she did something drastic – blood-elves were quite prone to dramatic feats, especially when depressed like that.

"It." Alyane said softly. "She does not have the natural spark, the uniqueness. And…" She paused.

Kain looked sharply at her, wordlessly telling her to continue though he really didn't care.

"I already have an apprentice in mind." Alyane confessed, winking. "And I think… _they'll_… be just right."

Kain frowned, wondering if he was supposed to pick up on something from the sentence. But it couldn't matter, anyway, and he still had to find Silya, and… Felfe! He needed to get to his training with Felfe!

He cursed softly, and Alyane apparently thought that he had realized what she was saying, and shrank back just a little bit, making the action look as serene and graceful as a swan on a crystal lake.

"I will deal with you later." Kain hissed, gripping her arm painfully tight before letting it go.

She did not rub her arm until he was out of sight and around the corner. But it hardly mattered, since the sight of Alyane softly caressing her arm was one that would probably ensnare any man stupid enough to look.

* * *

Silya ran, leaving Silvermoon City behind in a storm of tears, feeling so low and despairing that she didn't even care when she passed a group of blood-elves who stared incredulously at her. Something had snapped in her when Alyane had refused her in that calm, cool tone. She just wasn't good enough.

She blinked away the stinging tears as she ran, through the forest, past the Dead Scar, and to the river. Her heart beat fast, in time with her feet hitting the ground. She just wanted to be alone. She could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks, and she ought to wipe them away, but couldn't force herself to do it.

At last she grew tired of running, and slowed, reaching a deserted part of the riverbank. Or at least, she thought it was deserted until she saw an undead guy sitting on it. She nearly turned around and ran the other direction, but he had already seen her. She flinched at his gaze as it ran over her tearstained face and mussed hair.

"Hi." He said, brushing some of the hair away from his eyes so he could see her better. He looked to be a warlock, since he was wearing robes and… well… okay, so he could have been a mage. But she knew he was a warlock, for some reason.

"Hey." She said quietly, and then realized how ugly she must look with her hair messed up, her clothes rumpled, her shoes dirty… and she burst into a fresh bout of sobs.

"What's wrong?" The warlock asked sadly – not comfortingly, just sadly.

Unable to talk, she felt herself hit rock bottom. All she could do was sit down on the bank a good deal away from him and cry buckets. And that's what she did for a few minutes, before finally running out of spare body fluids and feeling quite faint.

The water showed her the most horrifying picture. She really did look disgusting. He must think she had completely lost it.

"You okay?" He asked, and she noticed that he was staring not at her, but into the water, at his own reflection in an almost confused way, like the action was against his will.

She bit back a choked sob that threatened, and forced herself to take a few deep breaths before replying in a broken and wavering voice. "N-no."

"Yeah, me neither." He said slowly, dipping a skeletal finger into the cold water of the river, dispersing his reflection in ripples. "Something happen to you?"

She took out her hair tie and hastily tried to comb her blonde hair into some semblance of order. Luckily, blood-elf hair was naturally perfect, so after only moments she was satisfied. That is, if satisfaction was a hollow, empty feeling.

"I feel… dead." She said lamely, trying to wipe her face with as much dignity as possible. She had no idea why she was confiding in this guy, but he seemed pretty down, so she guessed they were in the same boat, so to speak.

"I know what you mean." He sighed.

It occurred to her that she might have said something unfeeling, since he actually was dead – or undead, that is. "Sorry."

"Why?" It sounded more like a statement, in that doomed tone he spoke in.

"Cause you _are _dead, and… yeah." She explained, her voice soft. "Sorry."

"Not your fault." He ran fingers through his greasy hair, and it once again fell back over his eyes.

"What's your name?" She asked suddenly, feeling a need to put a name to the face, even if she'd probably never see him again. She didn't know if she'd ever see anyone again, actually.

"Temarr. What's yours?" His eyes glanced upwards to meet hers, and she saw endless suffering in his eyes. So much pain…

"Silya." She answered automatically. "Nice to… meet you."

"You're Kain's sister." He said, same tone as before.

"Yeah." She smiled weakly, feeling the pain cut through her. She didn't want to talk about what she was, right now. It never seemed to matter 'who,' only 'what.'

"So what happened?" He asked suddenly, still sitting in that hunched-over position and staring at the river.

Silya hesitated, and even when she spoke she stumbled over the words. "I… w-wanted to be… a… someone's ap-p-prentice, but… she wouldn't… teach me." She hiccupped at 'teach' and felt horrible, with the sound echoing in her mind over and over.

"Why?" He asked.

"S-she said," Silya started, feeling her eyes and cheeks burn simultaneously. "T-that I wasn't… good… enough."

Temarr pulled his glance from the water fully, and looked her in the eyes. She thought that he might be about to say something to the contrary, or give her some thoughtful advice, but he only said, "What did you say back?"

Silya flinched, raising a hand before recoiling from the action of touching her lips. "I… I kissed her."

Temarr's eyebrows rose significantly.

"She's a… kinda… temptress. She w-wants to… have all men l-like around her finger." Silya explained, her breath slowly returning to normal after all the crying.

Temarr's eyebrows rose significantly.

"And I… wanted to do that, too, because I'm not much good at anything else, so… but she said I couldn't. So I wanted to… to convince her." Silya confessed, spilling out her emotions to this clearly depressed undead warlock. "It didn't work."

"If it's any help…" Temarr said at last. "I'm not good at anything at all."

"Really?" Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back at him. "That's…"

"Sad. I know." He said ruefully, directing his eyes back to the river. "But I'm used to it."

She now noticed a scroll in his lap, but the quill pen was just lying on top of it, unused. "You're writing?"

"Yeah." He said airily, like nothing really matter to him. "Just the usual."

"Can I see?" She asked, scooting closer to get a glimpse of it.

He nodded deadly, and handed the paper to her. Her eyes read the sentences, and she felt so completely lost in them that she knew in a moment that he was just like her, and he knew what she was feeling and she wanted to comfort him, just like she wanted to comforted, and… It went like this.

_I tell myself all the time_

_That it's just the rain falling from the sky_

_I'd never really start to cry_

_Cause I'm just tired_

_I try to tell myself this lie_

_That it's just the soap getting in my eyes_

_I'd never really have to cry_

_I'm just tired_

_Nothing seems to make it fine_

_I say it's just the dust this time_

_Clouding my unyielding mind_

_I'd never really have to cry_

_Cause I'm just tired_

_I want to be something I can't be_

_I want to have something I can't have_

_The beating rain reminds me of my life_

_Drenching me through my skin _

_Letting me know I'm still alive_

_Nothing ever really makes it fine_

_Nothing helps the endless aching inside_

_I wish I could just disappear_

_Life tap could make it so much easier_

_But every time I try there's so much fear_

_Too much fear to do what I know _

_I'll do in the end_

_I'm just tired_

Silya thrust the poem back at him, because her new tears were threatening to wash away the ink and those eternally emotional words. Her heart ached for him, and for herself as well, because she had no Life Tap, and if she wanted to see the end it wouldn't be that easy for her.

"That bad, huh?" He asked, watching the tears fall down her cheeks like crystal droplets.

That sentence was almost a joke, and though it wasn't funny she couldn't help laughing a quick laugh. She knew she had lost something important, but she couldn't remember. So she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, letting her tears fall on his robe and losing herself to the pleasant warmth of a simple embrace.

For a moment Temarr seemed so shocked he might pass out, but he put his bony arms around her awkwardly, savoring the feeling of such closeness, and trying to remember what it felt like so he could feel sad and lonely when he would miss it.

Kain, standing a good way away to maintain his unperceived state, nodded. He turned, walked away, and sighed. His sister was in good hands, even if they were pretty skeletal looking.

* * *

Felfe sat outside the inn, bright eyes glancing around at the people and NPC's walking around Southshore. He frowned, concerned. Kain should have been there by now, but all the guards were still alive, and nothing had happened yet. Had he… forgotten?

'_Of course he hasn't!' _Mind rolled its eyes. _'He's madly in love with you.'_

'_T-that's not true…' _Felfe protested with only a slight blush. His mind seemed to be battling him with renewed vigor, and he didn't blush quite as darkly as before. _'He probably did forget.'_

Mind harrumphed and left Felfe alone, like it usually did in such useless arguments.

He had already been waiting for about a half hour, so he suspected there had to be some reason Kain was late (or not coming; Felfe hoped that wasn't the case). An ambush, maybe? No, he shouldn't think such things. After all, he tended to make things out to be worse than they were. So perhaps Kain really had forgot?

He sighed.

And then the shouts started. Very manly shouts, accompanied by very heroic clashes of metal on metal, and very dramatic death cries. Felfe thought all of it seemed familiar, and he was right.

"Kain!" He yelled, walking forward, having already spotted his friend.

Kain calmly cut down another guard and smirked at Felfe in that heart-stopping way that tended to cause a lot of chaos. After all, usually if your heart stopped that was pretty much the end. So he only used that degree of the smirk minimally.

Felfe swayed slightly from the effects of the powered-up smirk, but managed to regain his bearings just as Kain slew the last guard and sheathed Thunderfury in its place on his back.

"Sorry I'm late." Kain apologized hastily.

Felfe smiled. "It's fine."

And then he noticed that Kain was holding something in his off-hand. It was a picnic basket covered by a beautiful pink, lacy cloth. Perfect. Felfe wondered if Kain had picked it out especially, since it was so very… well…

'_The word you're looking for is 'romantic.' Or possibly 'sappy.'' _Mind said.

Felfe shooed Mind away and kept staring at the picnic basket as if he could see through it and figure out its contents. "Wow, that's a nice picnic basket."

It was a pretty stupid thing to say, but Kain laughed anyway. And then he looked down.

He blanched. "I didn't… It wasn't…"

"Huh?" Felfe said.

Kain struggled for an explanation for a moment. "It… Yuren… Yuren made it."

"The basket?" Felfe asked, astonished.

"No, the cloth." Kain clarified, nodding in a not at all convincing way. "I believe so."

Felfe just smiled and nodded.

"Well, then…" Kain tried not to think about his image at the moment, holding a ridiculous picnic basket with a lacy cloth on it. "We should get going."

"Where?" Felfe asked as they exited Southshore.

Kain paused, and then decided easily. "The lake."

After all, they always seemed to end up there – might as well go along with it. And the lake had a good amount of space around it, provided that they (he) cleared the surrounding bears and spiders from the place. And it would make an excellent sparring arena, since the trees could be used strategically to…

And he was getting a little ahead of himself, alas.

* * *

Kain set the basket down on the grass, thwacking a bear with Thunderfury when it came running at him. There was something about bears and picnic baskets that he struggled to recall, and failed. They probably just wanted the food.

But of course, there wouldn't be any bears around for a while, since he had just taken out the last one in the area around the lake. So that took care of that.

He unbuckled Thunderfury's sheath from his back, and set it down on the ground beside the basket. And then he sat down, gazing curiously at the basket and wondering what Yuren had made them.

Felfe sat down beside him, and they both exchanged looks for a moment. Then Felfe scooted closer and poked the basket cautiously. He looked up again and Kain gave a shrug. Felfe shrugged back, but then hesitated and glanced at Kain again.

They both spoke at once. "You can open it."

Felfe colored and countered, "No, you can, it's okay."

Kain just smiled and shrugged. "All right."

He removed the pink, lacy cloth from the basket and reached in to take out the items inside. There were four sandwiches and two bottles of fresh spring water. What kind of sandwiches, though, was of importance. They were BLT.

"Here." Kain said, and handed Felfe two of the sandwiches. Felfe refused one of them, saying that he never had a large enough appetite to eat two. Kain nodded, and ended up with three sandwiches for himself, all of which he was intent on consuming. He set one of the water bottles near Felfe and kept the other.

"So…" Felfe said, "Are we going to eat… now?"

Kain paused, and then shook his head. "It would be better to eat afterwards. Sparring after a meal is usually not a good idea."

"Usually?" Felfe asked.

"Well, always." Kain confessed. But he had been thinking of a different kind of sparring with his 'exception.'

Felfe nodded, and patted his two daggers as if to make sure they were still there. He stood, then, and shifted nervously as if preparing for some kind of ambush.

"I'm not going to just attack you without warning, Felfe." Kain said, smirk in place. He stood, too, and took Thunderfury from its sheath on the ground, leaving the sheath. Easier for him to fight without it on his back.

Felfe didn't seem to relax much, but he tried to smile anyway. "Okay."

Kain gave Thunderfury a few expert swings, and then he saw Felfe's daggers. Right, daggers. That could be difficult. He obviously couldn't fight Felfe with daggers, and if he used Thunderfury against those, the reach would give him more than an unfair advantage.

"Do you have any swords, Felfe?" He asked politely.

Felfe shook his head sheepishly. "That's bad, right?"

Kain paused.

Felfe sighed.

And then Kain put Thunderfury back in its sheath. "That's all right, I'll just go get a couple swords."

"From where?" Felfe inquired curiously.

"The Syndicate. I'm sure they have a few to spare." Kain waved to Felfe and disappeared into the forest.

Felfe shrugged and sat down to wait, eyeing the BLT sandwiches morosely. He really, really wanted to eat them. But he couldn't. But he was so hungry! His stomach was growling in a vicious manner that gave him the clear message: You eat. Now.

Felfe shook his head stubbornly, folding his arms and trying not to look at the food. But he could still smell it. Oh, the torture!

* * *

Kain returned minutes later with two Stock Shortswords and a Short Bastard Sword. He gave the two to Felfe, and hefted the bastard sword to test it's weight. Certainly not what he was used to, but it would have to do.

Felfe stared at the two swords interestedly, doing a couple of practice slashes to get used to the feel. He hadn't really used swords before, but luckily he knew how anyway. And it wasn't like they were that different from daggers. Mostly.

After the two had spent a few minutes trying out the new weapons, Kain spoke up. "Are you ready?"

Felfe gave a start, but nodded anyway. He backed away a few steps, setting him even farther away from Kain than before. He knew he'd have to think fast, so he begged his mind to help out for once. At the very least, though, he'd have his reflexes, which were surprisingly good.

Kain nodded, and declared, "All right, just plain attacks first, nothing fancy."

Felfe nodded, and readied his blades.

Kain came at him with the two-handed sword and aimed a strike at his shoulder. Felfe blocked, and slid the two blades away to try a counterattack. Kain dodged easily, both the swords missing him, and attacked again.

Felfe jumped back, and then rushed forward again to slice with both swords. Kain blocked them both at once, and pushed, causing Felfe to stumble backwards. He was caught off guard as Kain's sword hissed through the air.

He gave a squeak, ducking the slash, and then brought both swords up to block an incoming blow. He held the two swords there, in a cross, effectively stopping Kain's attack. But Kain didn't move after his attack was blocked, and instead pushed against the barrier.

Felfe struggled to maintain his guard, in a half-kneeling position and holding up both swords against Kain's godly strength. The vague realization that it was very hot out came to him, but he dismissed it, funneling all his stamina into the block, which Kain was still pressing hard against, as if playing with him.

Yes, that was it, Kain probably wanted to see how much pressure he could put on the block before Felfe was unable to hold up. That was a pretty good idea, since that way he could easily test Felfe's strength without actually hurting him. Although, Felfe couldn't really think of a way to test his strength that involved getting hurt. Actually, Felfe couldn't think at all.

The sun was blazing overhead, and sweat was forming on his forehead. Kain's blade was still putting pressure on Felfe's guard in order to break it, but Felfe was holding up as well as he could, straining against the force that threatened to overcome him. He then made the mistake of looking up at Kain through the window that the crossed swords gave him.

Kain wasn't sweating at all. In fact, his smirk was on maximum at the moment, since he was enjoying this more than Felfe could imagine. But Felfe had happened to glance at his expression, and it was now a lot more difficult for the poor elf to muster his strength, as he was also in danger of melting.

Felfe's guard suddenly weakened drastically, and he threw himself to the side to avoid being cut in two by Kain's blade. Not that Kain would have let that happen, of course. Surely…

Felfe barely had time to raise his swords again as Kain mounted another attack, and managed to block the same way as before. But he knew he wouldn't be able to hold it up very long. His body was getting fatigued after all the strain, since he hadn't been fighting lately and he'd never used swords much before.

"Your motivation is somewhat lacking." Kain mused aloud. "I'm sure you can do more than defend."

Felfe gaped, trying desperately to hold up the guard. "I-it's not that easy!"

Kain raised an eyebrow, and Felfe had to twist his swords around to block the strike when Kain withdrew his sword, lightning-fast, from the block and swung again. "Perhaps you need an incentive."

Felfe just wanted him to stop talking, as it was already distracting enough to be fighting _Kain_ in the hot sun and trying not to think of other things. Not that he had been, of course – he didn't have the time for that with all this dodging and blocking stuff.

So Felfe ignored Kain's sentence, and jumped backwards, trying to put more distance between them to think up a reliable plan. At least, a plan to keep him going long enough to put up a decent fight. Well, he'd go for semi-decent.

Unfortunately, Kain interrupted his thoughts again. "How about a small wager?"

Felfe frowned, wondering why in the world Kain was talking about bets at a time like this. "What kind of wager?"

Kain must not have planned the offer beforehand, because the words were a trifle hesitant. "If you can block me, using half my strength, for thirty seconds, I'll… take you out for ice-cream afterwards."

Felfe considered the offer, and almost agreed before Mind interrupted him.

'_You moron, ask him what happens if you lose!' _

'_Oh, yeah, that's a good idea.'_

"What happens if I can't?" Felfe asked, reminding himself not to chew his lip nervously, as it tended to mute his voice.

Kain pretended to think for a moment, and then said, "A kiss."

Felfe gaped, somehow managing to turn white and pink at the same time. "W-what!?"

Kain smirked. "You kissed me once, but it didn't count. Thus, if I kiss you for this reason, it wouldn't count either."

Felfe pondered Kain's skewed logic, and frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

"Regardless," Kain said, "You don't have to take the bet."

He said it slowly, offhandedly, like it really didn't make a difference to him if Felfe took the offer. And that, for some reason, made Felfe want to take it more. Especially since he could have ice-cream if he won. I mean, he didn't have the spare silver for dessert, so he hadn't had ice-cream in years. And he very much liked ice-cream.

But if he lost… well, surely he wouldn't. Kain had used about half of his strength before, and he had been able to block that for a good while.

Felfe nodded. "Okay."

Kain smirked again, and gave a taunting bow. "All right, then. The thirty seconds starts…"

And he swung his blade at Felfe, causing the night-elf to lift his swords quickly into the familiar cross position to block it.

"Now." Kain said, exerting half of his full force on the guard.

'_One, two, three…' _Felfe counted mentally, wincing at the strain of his arms.

It was more difficult than he had thought it would be. Apparently, Kain had only been using a small fraction of his full power before, since at the moment the pressure on Felfe's blades was nearly enough to make him collapse.

But he didn't, because he didn't want to think about what would happen if he didn't. To most people, one kiss wouldn't be anything to dread. I mean, they would get over it soon enough. But Felfe, obviously, was different. And he didn't want the promise to be broken yet again, and for a much more stupid reason.

So he pushed, hard, against the pressure of the bastard sword, and managed to hold his guard up longer than he thought possible.

'_Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…' _Felfe counted, wincing when his body began to tremble slightly. Surely, he could make it…

'_Twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…'_

Just a little longer, he told himself. But the trembling had progressed to shaking, and he knew he could fail at any moment.

'_Twenty-nine…'_

Just when the count had almost reached thirty, Felfe's guard broke, and Kain's blade touched his neck gently. Felfe paled, not liking the feeling of cold steel against his skin. He looked up at Kain, wondering how this whole 'kiss' thing was going to work out. He didn't want to think about it.

Kain withdrew the blade, and sheathed it. Felfe did the same, and rose to his feet again from where he had semi-collapsed.

"Amazing." Kain said.

Felfe's eyes widened. "Wait, did I win?"

"No," Kain shook his head. "We tied."

Felfe gaped, thinking that perhaps that meant the deal was off, and he had gotten off scot-free. "Wow."

Kain sighed, and then spoke again. "So, you get your ice-cream, and I get my kiss."

Felfe froze. He hadn't thought of it like that. "O-oh."

Kain showed remarkable restraint as he came closer to Felfe. His smirk was only at its usual setting, not the 'melty' extreme that it had been a couple of times. And he didn't look that triumphant.

But then he talked, in that tone that was almost as seductive as the extreme smirk. "Would you prefer I kissed you before, after, or… _during_… the ice-cream?"

Felfe gulped, blushing terribly. "D… uh… I… I don't know."

Kain seemed to take it to mean he could choose for himself, and his smirk threatened to reach extreme stage soon. But he managed to keep it at the usual level in order not to look intimidating. "Well then, let's go get some ice-cream. Is Silvermoon fine?"

Felfe resisted the urge to sigh in relief, though he knew Kain hadn't dropped the 'kiss' thing yet. But Silvermoon was a very nice place, he had heard, so he figured he might as well go along with it. "Sure."

* * *

The ice-cream parlor, set on a beautiful terrace with gold fencing, was so clean that the floors shone. They had a great deal of variety in their flavors, from plain ones like moonberry to crazy mixes like sunfruit-nagrand cherry-goldenbark apple with bits of banana bread.

They stood at the gleaming counter, and Felfe noticed that there were only female blood-elves working at the place, and they were all wearing the most adorable pink and white uniforms.

"Lord Kain!" One of them gasped, and then blushed, scurrying into the storeroom to retain some dignity.

The others, though highly interested, were able to pretend it was nothing out of the ordinary. One girl with strawberry-blonde hair stepped up to the counter.

"May I take your orders?" She asked sweetly.

Kain looked at Felfe, and nodded.

"I'll have… moonberry." Felfe said quickly. He had been craving moonberry ice-cream for ages!

"And you, sir?" The woman asked Kain.

Kain thought for a moment, and then said, "I'll have chocolate."

"That will be seventy-five silver and thirty copper." The woman said.

Kain handed over the money and they both received their ice-cream.

Kain walked over to one of the tables set out in the sun, and Felfe followed, taking a seat. For a while, neither of them said anything, being too intent on eating. Although Felfe was beginning to notice distracting things, such as the comical picture of 'Lord Kain' eating chocolate ice-cream with very obvious satisfaction. But of course, that wasn't all.

He kept catching glimpses of Kain's tongue, every time it darted out to devour more ice-cream. And he couldn't help it – his face was burning, like a fire was crackling merrily just below his skin. Kain paused, his tongue halfway to the ice-cream, and withdrew it back into his mouth, eyeing Felfe questioningly.

"Something wrong?" He asked innocently.

Felfe hurriedly went back to eating his moonberry ice-cream, but unfortunately he had no idea how delicious he looked, especially since he had the tendency, like Kain, to lick the ice-cream instead of just biting into it.

That was probably because his teeth would freeze unpleasantly if he tried to chew the very, very cold ice-cream. But still, excuse or not, he still had no idea that Kain was wondering what the best way was to get 'his side of the bargain' fulfilled.

Felfe had just decided to bite into the ice-cream for a change, and had a rather large, melting piece of ice-cream in his mouth, when Kain suddenly leaned over the table.

Felfe would have squeaked, but all he managed was a muffled noise because of the ice-cream in his mouth.

And then Kain's lips were on his, stunning him into silence, moving over his own like in his visions that one night, only better. Kain's hand cupped his face, tilting it into a more convenient position. But his lips never stopped, and then they pressed onto Felfe's with more force than before, and Felfe was oddly reminded of his guard breaking under the cold steel of Kain's practice sword.

It seemed to work the same way, since soon after Felfe found himself gasp slightly, and Kain's tongue slid into his mouth, tasting of chocolate. It found his own tongue, coated in moonberry, and wasted no time in caressing it in a way that made Felfe's heart flutter senselessly. Kain's mouth kept moving against his, tongue tasting him like one would a particularly delicious dessert.

And then, slowly, Felfe began to run out of breath, and Kain's tongue withdrew. One last small kiss, and then Kain leaned back, his eyes glinting like green hellfire. He was most certainly smirking, and it was the extreme smirk this time.

The blood-elf women in the background hastily wrote down a new flavor on their menu – chocolate and moonberry swirl.

Felfe tried to restrain his breathing so as not to look like he was panting, but it was difficult. His fingers went to his lips of their own accord, wonderingly. He was completely speechless.

Kain folded his arms, looking like he was not waiting for anything particular, but he was. Just some sort of sign from Felfe. Anything. Well, he could already see that his friend had liked it, but he needed verbal confirmation.

Felfe at last regained a normal breathing pattern, but he was still unable to talk. His mouth moved silently, producing no words.

Kain decided to help out. "Did you like it?"

Felfe nodded quickly.

Kain's expression softened. "Felfe… would you…"

Felfe's eyes locked with his, bright, glowing white to vivid green.

"Would you like to be," Kain paused, "More than friends?"

Felfe's mouth moved again uselessly, so he stopped trying to talk, and bit his lip nervously. After a moment, though, he resolved his issues mentally and finally made the most important decision of his life.

He nodded.

* * *

**_Mmkay, that's it for this story! Check out 'More Than Friends' which will be coming soon to a cpu near you._**


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